Never Boring
by Amhran Comhrac
Summary: Maggie Amell wants to rebuild the Wardens and defeat a new darkspawn enemy, but she's knocked off balance when she finds a kindred spirit in her apostate recruit. Spoilers/Completed- The post-game story will continue in Apostates of Amaranthine
1. Misunderstandings and Luxury

_Bioware owns Dragon Age and the characters, etc etc etc, not me._

_I had a real bee in my bonnet for Anders after starting Awakening so I decided to write this. __I'm so not abandoning my Jowan story, though. My love for everyone's favorite blood mage is still strong. (I even had to happily ever after him here.)  
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I had come to a decision: I hated the royal palace.

At first I was enraptured. People to cater to my every whim, huge soft beds, meals cooked by people who actually knew what a kitchen was, a library almost as impressive as the Circle's at my disposal, clean clothes every day and a hot bath every night. The first few months were like a fantasy. I had nothing whatsoever to do and no one expected anything of me beyond the occasional "smile and wave" public appearance.

Never mind that I was only staying because Eamon originally guilted me into it, I thought I would never leave. Alistair didn't have more than three words to say to me after the Landsmeet, so I originally took a room at the Gilded Noble. They were happy to have me, if only to tell people the "Hero of Ferelden" had been there. As for us, Zevran and I were happy to be had, finding drinking contests among the staff almost as challenging as those we had with Oghren once upon a time. After less than a week a retinue of maids and guards, accompanied by the Arl himself, showed up to escort Zev and myself to the palace. It was, apparently, something of a minor scandal that I had been staying in a tavern instead of being put up at the palace like a proper hero deserved.

I did my best to avoid Alistair at first, making sure to eat in my room or at odd hours. I hunted around the library late at night, long after he would have been asleep. It was, after all, his new home (_thanks to me,_ my mind always added), and I wasn't welcome. He had become a brother to me in all but name during our travels and my heart ached for his absence, but it was my own fault. Nearly a month passed like this, with Zev occasionally trying to make overtures towards reconciliation that went nowhere. At one point he threatened to carry me to Alistair's study on his back and block the door until we spoke, but I only laughed. He was one of the finest fighters I'd ever seen, true, but I stood at least a hand taller than him and weighed more. He could lift me if I was willing, something he had proven many times, some more memorable than others, but not if I fought back. Alistair was the angry one, after all. If he wanted to talk he knew where I was. Imposing my presence on him wasn't about to help matters.

I remember the first words he said to me after the disastrous Landsmeet. It was at a formal banquet, celebrating a month since the ending of the Blight or some such nonsense. Being the great hero I had been seated to the right of the King. Zevran talked incessantly, trying to fill the silence so no one would notice, while I sank lower into my chair, wishing I could enter the Fade without lyrium if only to escape. Alistair looked over to me during a lull in conversation and muttered "Can you pass the salt, please, Maggie?"

I was so surprised I nearly spilled it all over myself.

He found me in the library the next night, curled up in an oversized leather chair with a copy of the _Ballad of Ayesleigh._

"So answer one question for me," he began, startling me enough to drop the book. I decided to treat him like a skittish wild animal. Not wanting to scare him off and end this conversation I looked over, silently waving my hand to the chair beside my own. Alistair dropped into it and stared forward. "I understand why you let him live. I don't like it, but I see your reasoning. But why, after everything, did you let him make the final blow? Why give Loghain the glory?"

I blinked. _Oh Maker,_ I thought, _he didn't know! He doesn't know!_ "Alistair," I started slowly, "the night before the final battle Riordan met with us to explain. When a Warden kills the archdemon the spirit seeks them out, it's drawn to the nearest sign of a taint and since the Warden has a soul, both die. That's why only a Warden can do it; the archdemon would just leap into the nearest Darkspawn otherwise. That's why Loghain died. If I made the blow he would be here, and my body entombed at Weisshaupt."

He was silent for a long time. Taking a deep breath, he only said "I had no idea."

"Neither did I, but I figured Riordian had some reason for his suggestion. I mean, he was tortured by the man, after all." He nodded.

I thought back to that night on the roof of Fort Drakon. The archdemon was defeated, screaming in agony on the ground with a call that reverberated through my head. Without thinking I moved towards it, grabbing my sword Spellweaver. Loghain stopped me, pinning me in his hawk-like glare. He demanded to make the final blow, to earn his redemption. I knew it was the right thing to do, but still chafed at the memory. The idea of anyone dying so I could live didn't sit well.

"I'm sorry, if I had known… can you forgive me?"

I glanced over at him. Alistair looked like someone had punched him in the stomach. "Alistair, if you had known I'd have a reason to forgive you. You didn't know, so as far as I'm concerned, there's no offense to forgive."

"Really?"

"Really."

We sat in silence for a while before he spoke again. "You know, this place has a wine cellar like you wouldn't believe." I laughed.

At that point living in the palace became fun. Zev, Alistair and I would stay up late, playing cards or talking, just as we had on the road. We took meals together, and I even let him drag me along on a couple royal visits so the Banns could have the double honor of the King and the Hero of Ferelden all at once.

But, nothing lasts, especially not pretending to be royalty. Zevran disappeared one night some months later, leaving me a brief note about returning to Antiva to take control of the Crows on our nightstand. I was heartbroken, but not surprised. The Chantry began asking questions about when I would return to the Circle since I had no official reason to be outside the tower anymore. Even Weisshaupt sent me a dispatch asking if I would return to the Wardens and saying I could be Commander of the Grey in Ferelden if I so chose.

I had changed rooms once Zevran left, not wanting to be reminded of him. My new quarters were not far from Alistair's, but I rarely saw him. He was busy with running the country now that the initial joy of surviving the Blight had worn off. Balls were held almost every weekend, with the eligible noble ladies of Ferelden paraded before him like prize pigs so he could get about the business of making an heir. I went to one, hoping I could at least find someone to dance with me, maybe flirt with that adorable Bann Teagan, only to discover Alistair was just about the only man present who wasn't showing off a marriageable daughter. Leliana had gone to Haven to work with the Chantry on the ashes, Sten was back in the stoic and hopefully loving embrace of the Qun, that backstabber Morrigan disappeared before the final battle, Oghren was off with his new bride, and Wynne took Shale to Tevinter looking for a way to reverse the Gollum process. I was bored.

Alistair figured this out soon enough after the maids began to complain about singed curtains in my room from errant fireballs I cast absentmindedly while reading. He provided me with a horse and riding lessons so I could spend a week in Highever, visiting Jowan. I desperately missed spending time with other mages, and that mage in specific.

Jowan had fallen head over heels for one of the refugees he protected during the blight, and they were expecting a child by winter. Sitting around their small kitchen table, talking and laughing into the night, without having to play the part of hero or acting properly meek as any mage should, left me feeling revitalized. Jowan's even joked about naming the baby after me if it was a girl. I returned to Denerim feeling wonderful, finally having something to do after months of inactivity. My mood collapsed before long, though, as I sat through another boring state dinner, freezing and unfreezing the water in my glass while nobles talked about their own importance.

When I began to miss the excitement of the blight I knew it was time to move on.


	2. Disastrous, but interesting

Alistair was half-hidden under a pile of paperwork stacked on his desk. I knocked on the door and entered without waiting for him to reply.

"So when do you leave?" he asked.

"How did you know?"

"Mags, you're obviously bored out of your mind. And word gets around- letters back and forth between you and the Wardens. I'm not as dumb as I look." He grinned up at me. "Taking the Commander post?" I nodded. "So, is this an official meeting, then, Miss Warden Commander?"

"Um, maybe?" I answered. "I made a list of what I need. I figured we could base ourselves at the old fortress?"

"Soldiers Pass?"

"Yeah, the Drydens are still keeping up on it. They don't go inside, though, so I would need to see how that looks firsthand. If the veil is closed or not." We had driven demons out of the building a year earlier, and I didn't entirely trust it to be safe.

Alistair made a face. "Maker, no. I'm not letting you camp out up there like the Wardens are some state secret. First off, it's a horrid location- completely out of the way, recruits won't even be able to _find_ you. Second, it's not safe, the veil is stronger, but not _strong_. That old nut Avernus told us himself. And third, the building hasn't even been occupied for two centuries. It would need a fortune in updates." I sighed.

"I know, Alistair. But we need someplace to go. The small quarters allocated to the Wardens in Fort Drakon were destroyed in the blight, and don't hold more than a dozen people anyways. I have to rebuild the order. This can never happen again."

He nodded. Being the only two Wardens in Ferelden was terrifying, made all the worse since we were both new recruits. Neither of us even knew _why_ Wardens were necessary until the night before facing the archdemon. "Well, let me see your list." I passed it over. He glanced at it and snorted. "Mags, this says 'food, money, linens, weapons, armor, robes, decent cook.'" I nodded.

"Did I miss something? I wanted to get custom armor and robes for all the recruits who passed the Joining, something with griffons like they have elsewhere, but I thought it might be too extravagant."

"You're outfitting a fortress, not a group of ragged travelers," he sighed. "Let me get someone from the guards to work on this, OK? They'll know what you will need." He thought for a second, and grinned. "How do you feel about Amaranthine?"

"It's, um… north of here?" I'd never been there, and only knew it was the territory once controlled by the late Arl Howe. The 'late' part would be my doing, and rightfully so. "I hear it's warm there? Well, warm_er_. Jowan once said it was as far as you could get from the Circle and still be in Ferelden, so I guess my opinion would be positive now that the Howes are gone."

"I have an idea, but I need to talk to Eamon about it first. For now just plan to leave in seven weeks. I'll have more details for you after the Landsmeet next week, then you can do whatever you need to do."

"Seven weeks? Why so specific?"

"The anniversary of the blight, remember? People will demand you make some kind of appearance. We'll just roll it all in to you becoming the new Commander, too." I groaned. "I know, I know," he said. "This way you only have to deal with one parade instead of two."

I had to agree he made a good point. "When did you become so take-charge?" I laughed.

"I had no choice: some crazy mage made me King."

I didn't attend the Landsmeet, but by the evening gossip was flying around the palace about the King pushing some huge order through. I wandered by his study again.

"Mags!" He greeted me. "I was just about to hunt you down." Eamon was sitting near the desk, papers in his lap. I joined them, dragging a chair to be near the fireplace.

"Everyone in the palace is gossiping about something big at the Landsmeet. What happened today?" I asked.

"Well, Amaranthine? You remember I mentioned it?" I nodded. "Since the Howe family was stripped of all titles the Arling is vacant. I've convinced the Landsmeet that it should be handed over to the Grey Wardens."

"Maker's breath," I gasped.

"Don't thank me yet, there's more."

Eamon stood up, passing a sheath of paperwork to me. "Since the Wardens will effectively control the Arling of Amaranthine, and you are the commander of the Wardens, this makes you the Arlessa. There will be a seneschal who can handle the day to day affairs of government, but you are required to attend the Landsmeet representing your territory."

"Wait, no. No, this can't be." I refused to look at the paperwork. "Even if I knew a thing about politics, which I don't, I'm a _mage_, Eamon. Mages can't hold titles. And even if I wasn't a mage, Wardens give up their name and titles after the Joining." I glanced at Alistair. "Well, normally."

"Welcome to my world," Alistair smirked.

"The Chantry won't like this," I remarked.

"They've already registered a complaint. I think they were hoping you'd return to the tower, take over for Irving eventually." I snorted.

"Take over for Irving? They wanted to make me tranquil if Duncan hadn't been there, or worse. If I go back there no one will ever see me again. Screw the Chantry." Eamon coughed uncomfortably at that point so I shut up before I really put my foot in my mouth.

"Anyways," Alistair said, changing the subject. "How do you plan to recruit?"

I froze, I hadn't thought that far ahead. "I suppose I could send letters to our old allies, let them know where I am and that I'm recruiting? That, and keep an eye out for people, like I did before."

Alistair groaned. "So the Ferelden Wardens will be composed entirely of apostates and crazy people? Sounds interesting. Disastrous, but interesting."

"Hey, it worked last time!" I groaned. "I don't know, to be honest. I can fight, I can kill, I can plan an attack, I can make people who would normally beat each other to death get along. But I have no idea how to recruit or govern. I know we needed a base but I'm worried I'll just screw this all up and make a mess for you."

Eamon stood up to put a hand on my shoulder. "Stop worrying, you'll do fine. If the Wardens were concerned they wouldn't have held the post open for so long waiting for you. You find your recruits, train them, and point them at the darkspawn. The seneschal will take care of the politics and housekeeping."

Alistair nodded. "I think starting with our allies from the Blight is a good place. Word will spread, once people know you're recruiting you'll have to start turning them away at the gate. Come on, you were so ready to take on the Blight with no resources and no clue, why so nervous now?"

"Because I was young, idealistic, and foolish? And I worried that if I didn't do Warden things someone would send me back to the tower?"

Alistair laughed. Eamon looked nervous and I regretted my words instantly. I had forgotten his son was just sent to the tower. "I was a troublemaker, Eamon. I pranked my teachers, snuck around after curfew to meet boys, and stole from the Templars. I cheated off Jowan to pass healing, and he cheated off me to pass primal, and we once set the First Enchanter's desk on fire by mistake. Shoot, I helped him escape the very day after my Harrowing. It was bad for me because I wouldn't follow the rules. Connor won't have a problem, trust me. He's not the nightmare child I was."

"I think we can leave all that out of your official biography," Eamon replied, but he looked relieved.

"Thank you, Eamon. Do you mind if I speak to Alistair alone for a moment? Warden business." He nodded and excused himself, but only after I signed the paperwork officially leaving me in control of the arling.

"What's wrong," Alistair asked when we were alone.

"How did Duncan do it?"

"Do what, Mags?"

"Find people, become their friends, treat them kindly, all the while worrying they might not survive, and if they did it would be… this?"

"Do you blame him?" Alistair sounded concerned.

"No, not at all, I wish I knew how to be more like him. But it was a Blight. Without that asking people to sign on to this, to poison themselves and die young- if they survive the joining- seems cruel. I mean, I can't even tell them the risks."

Alistair stood up and walked around his desk. "We do what we must. In peace, vigilance."

"I wouldn't change becoming a Warden, but I had nothing to lose. When you told me and I said I'd take thirty years of freedom over a hundred locked in the tower I was serious, and when I was conscripted I don't even think I had that option. I honestly think the Chantry would have killed me. I don't regret it for an instant. But how can I make that choice for someone else?"

"I wish I knew."

I sighed, remembering the sound of Daveth's body hitting the stone at Ostagar, and Duncan's mournful apology.

* * *

"Are you ready to leave?" Alistair was standing in my doorway holding a package.

"Just about," I say, trying to cram one more thing in my bag.

"Andraste's Ass, Mags. I'm heading out there a day or so with an entire contingent of guards. We can bring more up then. We'll have a whole wagon with us."

I gestured to the corner of the room where my normal clothing, books, and other items were packed. "I had been hoping you would say that. This is just my robes, enchanted rings, and amulets."

He thrust the package at me. "You'll need to make room, then. Guess what this is!"

I took the box and looked at him. "It's a box? For me?"

"Yes, Maggie, a box. I thought you could use one. Darkspawn are terrified of boxes, after all. Haven't I told you?" I looked at him blankly. "There's something _inside_. You act like no one's ever given you a gift! It's a going away present."

I thought back. Zevran had given me an earring once, true, and a slightly creepy story to go along with it, but other than that… I ran to Alistair and threw my arms around him. "Thank you," I said.

"Usually you open the present and _then_ thank the giver." He looked at me. "You have been given gifts before, right?" I shook my head. "Not even on your birthday?"

"Alistair, I went to the tower at four, I don't even know when my birthday _is_. I know I'm about five or six and twenty, but that's all." He blinked, jaw open.

"Maker's breath… All right, that's going to change, I promise you." His sunny face contorted for a moment in anger. I watched as he forced it back, replacing the smile. "Anyways, open it!"

I peeled back the blue wrapping and lifted the lid. Blue and gold fabric sat inside. I felt power emanating from the enchantments as I unfolded it.

"Tevinter robes!" I shrieked, "oh Maker, and a matching cowl!"

Alistair grinned. "Look closer." They were both embroidered with griffons. Seeing me grin he replied "You're not the only one who can get deliveries from Weisshaupt."

"They're perfect. Thank you, Alistair. Really. Now I'll at least _look_ like I know what I'm doing."

"You like them?"

"I'm kicking you out now just so I can put them on to wear today!"

"I could make a lewd comment here, but you'd call my bluff, we would have this whole awkward-thing-moment, and I'd end up blushing through the entire procession out of the city, so I think I'll just meet you downstairs."


	3. Darkspawn as a Housewarming Gift

_So a lot of this is straight from game dialogue, which I clearly do not own. That's all Bioware. I'm posting a new chapter pretty soon, though, to make up for the lack of original content here and in the next one._

_So I've got 1000 readers now between this and my other story. Go me! I do a little dance of joy every time I see someone has added me to their watch list, though. Really, I do. __But no one ever reviews. That gives me a sad. _

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I managed to smile and wave my way through all of Denerim without falling off my horse, which was a minor miracle in itself. At the gates all of the nobles in residence were lined up to see the Hero of Ferelden off and promise their support to the Wardens. I stumbled hopping down, but no one seemed to notice or react. The newest Bann, an elf named Shianni representing the Denerim alienage, was being given the cold shoulder by the human nobles, so I made a point to spend more time speaking with her than the others. We had met when I busted Loghain's slave traders in the alienage, and again the day of the siege, so I figured a hug wouldn't be out of order. If elves and mages were constantly topping the 'most hated in Ferelden' list I figured we should stick together. Judging by her smug expression and the jealous glares of the humans I did a decent job.

Just before I headed off from the procession on my way, when we were outside the city walls, Alistair called "please, don't conscript every apostate you meet. I'm going to have a hard enough time dealing with the Chantry."

"I make no promises!" I shouted back to him, as he retreated towards the palace. His laughter echoed against the walls.

After double and triple checking the map Alistair had marked for me I set off for Amaranthine, confident I could reach it in three days. Neither of us could read a map in the past, though, and looks like he hadn't taken lessons since our traveling days. Thanks to the convoluted route it ended up being almost nightfall on the fourth day when I caught up with the Denerim recruit I was supposed to meet. She was on foot. "I am so sorry," I apologized. "Someone gave me _terrible_ directions. What a horrible first impression I'll make."

The girl, whose name was Mhairi, seemed unconcerned. "You're the Hero of Ferelden, no one will mind if you're a little late." She was practically giddy at the thought of being a Warden. Every time the word "honor" passed her lips I was reminded of Ser Jory, who died at my joining. It was tough to resist the urge to jump from my horse and shake her. I had to practically beg just to get her to stop calling me "my lady," settling for "Commander" instead.

Finally Vigil's Keep broke over the horizon. I stared at it, trying to absorb every detail, conscious that it would be my home from now on. "Why are there no Wardens to greet us?" Mhairi asked. I shrugged.

"Maybe Alistair sent word that I hate a fuss?"

She gave me a confused look. I had to remember most people didn't think of him as Alistair the Grey Warden anymore. Before she could ask me who I was talking about a man in cheap chainmail, covered in blood, ran up to us. "Darkspawn!" he shouted.

I clambered off my horse. "Where are the other Wardens?" I had been promised a dozen from Orlais until I could get the Ferelden numbers up. I wanted more but apparently whatever Loghain said to turn them away at the blight had the Empress in a tizzy. He had no answers so I told him to get to safety and, if possible, send for help. Yanking my cowl down I readied my staff and cast a shield. A couple Genlocks bounded towards us and I froze them quickly before moving on, shouting "smash the frozen ones," over my shoulder. Working together we cleared the outer courtyard quickly, even when facing an Ogre. The recruit stopped in her tracks when it rounded a corner, but started moving when I froze the thing and hacked at it with my own sword.

She was nearing a panic when we finally reached the inner Keep. Asking me how this could have happened and why the Wardens didn't sense it I shrugged. "It doesn't matter right now. We'll defeat them." That seemed to satisfy her, which was good, since the other answers I came up with of 'I haven't the faintest idea' and 'Maybe the Empress sent us her dud Wardens, since _I_ can sense them just fine' struck me as far less reassuring.

I climbed the stairs, my senses guiding me to a room just off the second floor balcony. I held up four fingers to Mhairi and pointed to the door before I opened it. I ran in and managed to skid myself to a halt before colliding with blonde man halfway through casting a fire spell. The last of the darkspawn dropped and he spun around, shaking the flames from his hands.

"Uh… I didn't do it," he began. I raised an eyebrow. Taking a closer look at me he followed that up with "hey, I recognize you from the Circle!" before I could respond. He did? How could I not remember _him_? He was certainly the type I'd remember. After being involved with an elf for over a year I'd forgotten just how… tall human men could be. "I know what they've been saying about me," he went on. "But this? Not my doing."

I crossed my arms, watching him since he seemed perfectly content to keep speaking, as cheerful as anyone in a room with darkspawn corpses could be. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not broken up about them dying, to be perfectly honest. Biff there made the funniest gurgle when he went down." I looked at 'Biff' and realized there were templar corpses mixed in with the darkspawn. Everything clicked into place.

"So you killed all these darkspawn yourself?" I asked, forcing myself not to cheer as Alistair's departing words echoing in my mind.

"Of course," he shrugged. "Well, they helped. A little. Before they tragically died." I snickered. "You may call me Anders, my dear lady. Mage and, sadly, a wanted apostate." He then bowed.

Before I could introduce myself Mhairi spoke up, shocked. "an apostate, at Vigil's Keep?" He responded by flirting with her. I was reminded of when we met Zevran. After helping him up he proceeded to flirt with Leliana, barely casting a glance my way. I was, apparently, still Ferelden's favorite runner up.

I looked over at the pile of bodies, and without thinking blurted out "So they were templars?" Because, of course, I wasn't a mage who grew up surrounded by them in the tower or anything like that.

"So they kept saying-," he replied. "Although come to think of it, there's no real way to know for sure, is there?" I paused, remembering that at one point even I owned a full suit of Templar armor, a few creepy ideas popping into my head. "The templars had captured me and were taking me back. And then, you know, darkspawn attacked. Could be a sign, yes?"

"A very convenient sign," I replied with complete honesty.

"Isn't it, though? The maker moves in mysterious ways. Well, tell you what. I'll help you, and we can discuss what comes later… later, once all these bastards are properly put down. Yes?"

"Welcome aboard, Anders," I said before leading us into the next room.

Back on the balcony I saw the gate lever. Darkspawn were on the opposite side, pounding at it. "Everyone stay up here!" I called. "I'm going to cast a storm spell, someone open the gate when I'm almost done so they run right into it." Anders hit the lever and just before I finished my incantation we were nearly knocked over by a fireball the size of a small house consuming the darkspawn entirely. A dwarf laughed madly from the opposite balcony, shouting threats at the darkspawn before running inside.

"What in the Maker's name was that?" I asked.

"Some kind of fire bomb?" Anders supplied. "Not a spell, that's for sure."

"I can make a fire bomb, that was NOT a fire bomb. That was… I have no idea what that was."

"Where did a mage learn to make a fire bomb?" Anders asked me.

I shrugged. "I used to… spend a lot of time with an assassin. He taught me how to make poisons and bombs." My heart clenched briefly, remembering the nights in camp where Zevran taught me how to mix the ingredients, his breath on my neck as he explained each recipe.

He blinked. "Who makes friends with assassins?"

"Me." Without waiting for a response I headed us to the next area.

Most of the rooms in the Keep presented the same scene: a single soldier, barely holding out against the darkspawn, who we would send to safety as soon as we cleared the area. Passing the eighth or ninth room with plain wooden beams, gaudy orange banners, and minimal furniture, I groaned. "I need to have this place redecorated."

"I don't know," Anders said. "After someone went through the trouble of getting you darkspawn for a housewarming gift that may be rude."

We eventually came to a room that smelled strangely of ale. I saw a large mass of darkspawn on the far end, with a short, red, howling blur in the middle of them. Blood was flying hard enough to splatter on the ceiling.

The blur slowed to a stop, lowered a monstrous battleaxe and cast me a surprisingly jaunty wave before resuming his attack. I cheered and leapt into the battle, lightning dancing from my fingers as I ran across the room. The last of the darkspawn fell and a familiar voice called out. "A-ha, there you are! When these darkspawn showed up, I thought 'just you wait until the new commander gets here and you'll all be spitting teeth out of your arses!'" He laughed. "Followed the screaming and sure enough, here you are. Good on ya!"

"Oghren! You're here!" I embraced him, and then fell back staggering from the smell of ale. He laughed.

"Came here thinking I might try my hand at being a bona fide Grey Warden."

"Does Felsi know?" I asked.

"She said it would be hot."

Not wanting to go into that discussion any deeper I held up a hand. Mhairi spoke up from behind me. Of course. "He was here when I left. I can't believe the Wardens didn't kick him out."

"Hey, the recruit with the great rack!" Oghren said in reply.

"I'd be very surprised if the Wardens kicked out one of the three people alive who faced down an archdemon and lived to tell of it." I said to her with a grin, enjoying the look of shock on her face.

"That was a hell of a fight, wasn't it?" Oghren mused. "Hey, speaking of, where's the elf? Shouldn't he be prancing around you trying to get into your robes?"

"Back in Antiva," I sighed. "He left a few months back. I suspect he's head of the Crows by now."

"Bah," Oghren grunted. "Forget the blighter. Never could figure what you saw in him anyways. Sodding perverse Antivans." He looked up again. "Who's the mage? New boyfriend? Should I leave you two alone?" I blushed slightly and rolled my eyes at him. He chuckled.

"Wow, a dwarf that smells like a brewery," Anders observed. "You never see that _anywhere_!"

"Huh, a mage comedian," Oghren said in reply. "Thought those normally died young." I cleared my throat and Oghren mercifully took the hint, suggesting we move on.


	4. Think of it as liberating

_Anyone else find the Alistair dialogue in this part of the game just a bit too "I was in the first game. Cameo here! Wink Wink!" Just me, then?_

_Another chapter with chunks of direct-from-game dialogue. Bioware owns it. Like they own my very soul.

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"I will avenge you, Rowland. I swear it." Mhairi stood above her dying friend and I put a hand on her shoulder. There was nothing we could do. The poor man had been injured severely, well beyond the reach of any poultice or healing spell. I actually winced looking at the injury. Just before he died he had told us about a talking darkspawn leading the attack. I put that down to his dying hallucinations.

Kicking myself for not arriving sooner I asked Mhairi if she wanted to take a few moments before we pressed forward. She shook her head, eyes determined.

Once the building was clear I insisted on checking the battlements. I could still sense darkspawn around us, although their numbers were very small at this point.

"Do you always do that," Anders asked as we climbed the stairs.

"Do what?"

"Cheer after every fight."

"What, you don't take pride in a job well done?" I laughed. "Besides, you have _no idea_ how bored I've been for the last year."

"Hey, as long as you're having fun, that's what matters." He laughed along with me. "Were you back at the Circle? I've been out since before the blight started, so I'm afraid I don't have all the recent gossip."

I gasped. "Maker, no. They'll have to drag my cold corpse through the doors if they want me back. I was staying with Alistair."

He looked like there was more to ask, but we had reached the roof. Seeing us, one of the darkspawn walked over. Behind him were bodies, and a single man still alive, sword to his throat. The darkspawn stopped near us, weapon still on his back, and began to accuse me of working with someone or something he called 'the architect.' My jaw dropped open, Rowland had apparently been right. He ordered his fellow monsters to take the Warden, being me, alive and I snapped. "Talking or not, he'll still die. Attack!"

The bastard just _wouldn't _go down. I drained myself completely trying to keep him frozen while damaging him as much as I could and he was still stumbling around, taking swings with a greatsword. "Sod it," I muttered, grabbing the knife I kept tucked in the belt of my robe. Slicing my palm open I began to cast again, throwing the darkspawn leader backwards. Another spell to boil his blood from the inside out, and finally he was dead.

"_That_ was unexpected," Anders said near my ear in a cold voice as we helped the man to his feet. Oghren, of course, knew already. I don't think anyone else realized what I just did, and I wasn't about to have a 'getting to know your maleficar Commander' question and answer session for everyone else.

I shrugged, saying only "Grey Wardens are allowed to use any means necessary against darkspawn."

I sat on the edge of the roof, catching my breath, as the man we saved introduced himself as Seneschal Varel and gave a rundown of what happened before I arrived. It was, by now, late afternoon. I'd been fighting nonstop since the previous evening and wanted nothing more than a bath and a nap, and perhaps not even in that order.

"Anders," I called.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Please don't call me that. How's your healing?"

"Healing just happens to be my specialty."

"Fantastic! You have no idea how happy I am to hear that." I replied. "If you would?"

He came over to me, casting a glance up and down. "What's injured?"

I held up my palm. "I'd like to avoid scarring if I can. It tends to create uncomfortable questions and people wanting to kill me."

He shook his head and took my hand, making a tsk sound that reminded me disturbingly of Wynne whenever I'd ask her for the same thing. His fingers were cool against my palm, brushing my skin with the gentle touch of a healer. "You can't heal that little cut? How'd they ever let you take the Harrowing?" I watched him mutter an incantation and I felt warmth surround my hand and a pulling sensation as the flesh knit back together.

I examined it and smiled, there wasn't even the hint of a scar. "Very nice work!" He visibly puffed up and I resisted the urge to pat him on the head. "I'd be able to heal it, but not without leaving a scar. I focused on primal and entropy," I explained. "I've picked up a lot since leaving the Circle, but it's all combat magic. During the blight we traveled with a healer."

A horn sounded in the distance. "Looks like we have company," Varel piped up. I looked out at the road, catching sight of the standard banners.

"Hey, it's Alistair!" I exclaimed. "Looks like someone else mapped this for him; the route he gave me was _horrid_."

"_Who is Alistair?"_ I heard Mhairi ask in a whisper as I bounded down the stairs.

_"Some friend of hers she's been staying with since the blight ended," _Anders supplied_. "Maybe the elf that dwarf mentioned? Or the assassin. She mentioned being friends with an assassin."_

_"What kind of person is friends with an assassin?" _Mhairi asked.

_"Your new boss?"_ Anders chuckled in response.

"The elf _is _the assassin, you gossipy nug humpers!" Oghren bellowed. I could hear him laughing all the way to the front gates.

I walked through the courtyard, smoothing my robes as much as I could, before bending to one knee. "Makers breath, Maggie, would you get up," muttered a familiar voice. I snickered and jumped to my feet, tossing my arms around him while Mhairi gasped behind me.

"Sorry, just having a bit of fun. You missed all the excitement!"

"So I see. I wanted to give the Wardens a formal welcome, I wasn't expecting this. Did you write the darkspawn a note saying you were back to work so they could meet you?"

"Maybe they don't know we ended the blight?"

"Yes, that's got to be it. Just a simple misunderstanding; I'm sure we'll all laugh about it later."

"Absolutely," I agreed. "I'll have them over for tea next week and explain everything."

"Seriously," he asked, his face darkening. "What's happened here?"

I shrugged. "The keep was overwhelmed when I got here, all the Wardens from Orlais are dead, and I've been fighting nonstop since last night. Seneschal Varel can tell you more, he was here when it started."

Varel filled him in while I watched the crates being unloaded. Eamon had told me we would get a smith here, and to my joy I saw Master Wade griping as he climbed out of a wagon. Alistair's guard captain gave me a rundown of the supplies being delivered, and said my personal effects were in the master suite. I nodded.

"Mags," Alistair called. "I hate to do this to you, but I only stopped here on my way to deal with some trouble in the Bannorn. I can't stay."

"You sure? Killing darkspawn isn't the same without you standing in front of me screaming 'DOWN YOU GO!' every time you decapitate one."

"Believe me, I'd prefer it. I've missed the whole darkspawn killing thing." I nodded in agreement. Alistair's personal guards were looking at him like he was the Maker himself. I suppose the occasional reminder that he's an actual national hero who was actually used to fighting in armor, instead of just wearing it for show, in addition to the king, was a morale booster.

He was turning to leave when a woman in templar armor elbowed her way forward. I hadn't even been aware they took women. It would have made me happy normally, but I avoided using happy and templars in the same thought. "Your majesty, beware! This man is a dangerous criminal!" she said forcefully. _Maker, I hate templars_, I thought to myself.

"Oh, the dwarf is a bit of an arse but I wouldn't go that far," Alistair brushed her aside.

Anders stepped forward, his head hanging low. "She means me," he muttered.

_And here we go, first conscription coming up!_ I thought, fighting back the temptation to bounce up and down. "This is an apostate who we were in the process of bringing back to the Circle to face justice!" Wow, she was shrill for a templar. They usually went with 'quiet seething hatred' over 'angry screaming.'

"Oh please," Anders interrupted her. "The things you people know about justice would fit into a thimble." I nodded forcefully in agreement and caught Alistair rolling his eyes at me. "I'll just escape again anyhow," Anders finished.

"Never! I will see you hanged for what you've done here, murderer!" she howled.

Anders protested but gave up halfway through. I suspected he did kill those templars, or had some hand in their death, but couldn't blame him. I would do the same in his place. After all, I slaughtered my way through the whole of Fort Drakon to escape once, and most of those guards were just hired hands, not even Loghain employees. People will do funny things when their freedom is at stake. All I cared about was that he had happily volunteered to slaughter darkspawn with us, didn't run in terror from them, and was a competent healer, something I would sorely need. That it furthered my 'save every apostate from Chantry style justice' plans and he was capable of chatting and laughing in battle like my former companions was a fringe benefit. Alistair caught my eye briefly and winked.

"It seems there isn't much to say," Alistair deadpanned. "Unless you have something to add, Commander."

"I do," I beamed, "I hereby conscript this mage into the Grey Wardens." The templar raised a protest, but Alistair shut her down quickly. Defeated, she turned around to return to her position. I stuck my tongue out at her retreating back and snickered, adding a little dance.

"Me, a Grey Warden?" Anders sounded shocked, and not entirely thrilled. Not entirely unhappy, either, though. "I _guess_ that will work…"

"Looks like _somebody_ forgot our chat about not recruiting every apostate in Ferelden," Alistair said just loud enough for Anders and Mhairi to widen their eyes. Oghren laughed.

"Don't think of it as recruiting," I answered. "Think of it as liberating. That sounds so much nicer."

"Well don't come crying to me when there's an Exalted March on the Wardens."

Alistair said his goodbyes, giving me a hug before turning to leave. I watched the procession walk off for a moment, making sure the templar didn't turn around and come back. When I was sure she wouldn't try to undermine the king I sent Varel inside, asking him to prepare the joining for me.


	5. Like a party, with darkspawn!

"There goes the only templar I ever liked." I sighed dramatically.

"Ser Rylock?" Anders said incredulously.

"Was that the screaming woman? She doesn't have the whole 'quiet menace' thing down yet." I looked over my shoulder at the retreating group. "I meant Alistair. Well, King Alistair Therin now, but he'd hit me with a shield if I ever called him that. He was a templar before he was a warden. Never took vows, though. Duncan conscripted him just in time."

"I can't believe you are on a first name basis with the king," Mhairi murmured. "Who is Duncan?"

"The last Commander of the Grey in Ferelden. He conscripted Alistair and myself." I frowned, remembering the last time I saw him. "Died at Ostagar. That's where I met Alistair. He was just Warden Alistair the chantry-raised bastard back then, I didn't even know who his father was until months later. We fought together for more than a year before he became king. Let me tell you, once you pull an arrow from someone's backside most of the formalities drop."

She nodded, blushing. "That does make sense."

"Anyways," I went on. "feel free to go inside and clean up. I would not recommend eating anything before the Joining. Or drinking, Oghren." He groaned. "Anders, if I can speak to you for a moment?"

The other two walked inside, leaving me and my fellow mage standing in the courtyard. "Oh, a private audience already? I feel all warm inside," he quipped.

"I'm giving you an out, if you want it," I began. "They volunteered, you didn't. I happen to think being a Warden is a damn sight better than being a Circle mage, but something tells me you're not the type to stick around if you don't want to be here in the first place." Anders grinned and shrugged. "I've been commander for less than twenty four hours, and you're the first person I've ever conscripted. If you bolt after the Joining Weisshaupt will think I'm a total idiot. I'd like to keep that from them for a while." It was my turn to grin. "I can only cash in on the 'I ended the Blight' thing for so long."

"I'd imagine you can get at least a few more years out of that," Anders suggested. "Unless we have another Blight, and someone else ends that one."

"Maker, we'd better not," I said with a shudder, barely registering that it was a joke. I saw the archdemon on the roof of Fort Drakon in my mind and closed my eyes, as though that would drive the vision away. I had to pull myself back to reality. "Anyways, there are risks and sacrifices, neither of which I can tell you in advance." He watched me, and said nothing. "But there are also benefits. I can try and answer your questions, but some things are secret. Conscription is normally mandatory, but Weisshaupt knew damn well I put people before rules when they picked me. Plus, the whole not wanting to look like an idiot thing."

"So what will you tell them if I go?"

_Andraste's ass, _I thought and I tried not to sigh. "I'll let it slip to a couple friends in high places that I'm awfully broken up about the brilliant healer I recruited who didn't make it through the Joining. Alistair, certainly, but maybe Teagan as well. Teagan's good at manipulating gossip, so that should to the trick." The potential lethality of the Joining was supposed to be a secret, but it was perhaps the worst kept secret in all of Thedas. I don't think I'd ever met someone who didn't know about it, so I didn't mind hinting towards it myself. I figured even a small hint would help me sleep at night.

"Brilliant healer, aren't you the little flatterer" he said and grinned. "Who is Teagan?"

"Bann Teagan Guerrin of Rainesfere. We're friends."

"So you're best buddies with the king and friends with Queen Rowan's brother?"

"What can I say, I move in strange circles. Teagan's a good man. Honest, trustworthy, respected, good dancer, pleasant conversationalist, and notorious gossip when the need arises. He's rather fond of me, if I tell him to spread a rumor he will."

"Wait, it sounds like you _dated_ the late Queen's brother."

"I wouldn't go that far," I answered. "It was just a couple dinners and royal balls. I'm not cut out for that life. I like being a Warden too much."

Anders was quiet for a moment. I got the impression he was trying to get the nerve to ask something. "So…," his tone was artificially light and casual, "blood magic?"

I nodded. "Like I said, Wardens don't forbid it. I use combat spells only, cast from my own blood. I have never, and _would_ never use it to drain the life of another or control a mind. Those aren't Warden regulations, just my own personal rules."

"You're not worried about becoming an abomination?"

"Not at all," I said. "I learned it from a person, and he learned it from books. I'd never consort with demons. You don't just wake up an abomination; you have to actually do something to get possessed. I hardly think defending the world from unholy monsters would qualify. And, if you are still considering this, know I would never even ask you to learn blood magic."

"And the Chantry knows this? They don't come after you?"

"Warden authority is beyond the Chantry. They _can't_ come after me, or any of us." His face brightened when I said this, and I suspected I had my healer.

"What do Wardens do, when they're not killing darkspawn?"

"I don't know, I was doing that basically all day when I joined-"

"When was that?" he cut me off, looking curious.

"The evening before the battle at Ostagar," I replied. He gave me a funny look but I wasn't sure how to read it. I also wasn't entirely sure how to answer his question. I'd known to get recruits, but hadn't thought much about what to do once I had them. I tried to come up with something reasonable sounding. "I'd certainly require people to train, just to keep their skills sharp. I may ask people to go with me to check out promising new candidates, since we'll be recruiting a lot for at least a few years, or to help train new people once we have them. Obviously investigating any darkspawn activity is our top priority, which may involve travel. Other than that, your time is your own. Read, sing, dance, paint, have drinking contests with Oghren. I don't really care."

"Can you leave?"

I pretended to misunderstand him, trying to keep the mood light. He hadn't run yet, so maybe he wouldn't at all. "You want me to leave? Anders, I live here." I made a face.

"Clever. I mean, say I agree." _Yes!_ I thought. "Can I ever leave?"

"You mean leave the order, or just leave the Keep in general?"

"Both?"

"Yes and no. A Warden is something you _are,_ not something you _do_. I can't explain more unless you go through the Joining. You can step down from duty, like Alistair did, but you'll always be a Warden, the physical changes aren't reversible. We can't protect you from the templars if you step down, though." He nodded in understanding. "If you mean as far just leaving here, like to go into town alone for a drink, or travel somewhere on personal business, sure, as long as it doesn't interfere with your duties as a Warden. It's not a jail sentence." I smiled, trying to look reassuring. _Come on,_ I thought, _it's fun! Like a party, with darkspawn! And I really, really need a healer! _

"Physical changes," he said, looking nervous.

"Yeah. I hope having seven toes on each foot isn't a problem for you." Anders looked at my feet in horror. "That was a joke, Anders. The changes aren't anything you can see. Internal stuff, I'm not entirely sure on how it works, to be honest. I didn't exactly get the full training after my joining."

"What's the downside?"

"There are several, they are severe, and I can't tell you." I just couldn't bring myself to sugar coat that part. Knowing he could be dead at my feet very soon was bad enough, although I strongly suspected anyone iron willed enough to escape the tower seven times would make it through the joining without a problem. Even still, he deserved as much of the truth as I could give.

"Well that sounds comforting." He sighed. "I suppose it beats being on the run from the Chantry forever. All right, point me at whatever it is I have to kill, or wear, or swear on, or however you do this."

"It's something you have to drink."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"It shouldn't" I said with complete honesty.


	6. wake me if the darkspawn return

_So is Varel a Warden? I would hope so, since he conducts the joining, but the game seems to imply otherwise. Well, in my world let's say he is. Since non wardens at the joining is just wrong. Thanks so much for the reviews so far, they made my day!_

* * *

I watched each recruit carefully as they took the chalice, trying to keep my face calm. Oghren went first. I suspected he was already nearly tainted enough to qualify as a Warden just from the sheer amount of yelling he did in battle. There's no way he managed to swing an ax while screaming without accidentally swallowing some darkspawn blood. His eyes rolled back, turning pure white, and he belched without falling down. Varel and I exchanged glances and shrugged. It was, apparently, a success. After a moment he dropped to the ground, snoring.

Anders was next. He made a joke before drinking, but didn't hesitate. After his eyes changed he fell backwards as though pushed. I could see the rise and fall of his chest as he continued breathing, and nodded: another success.

The chalice then went to Mhairi. I sucked in my breath, waiting to see her reaction. I was sure Oghren would be fine and nearly sure about Anders. For some reason I wanted to yank the chalice from Mhairi's hands, though. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, for all her focusing on legends and glory, and assuming chivalrous standards for us that never existed, I didn't think she really understood what being a Warden meant. There was no way to know for sure, but I suspected going in with the wrong idea could prove fatal. She drank and put a hand to her throat, gasping briefly before falling. I knelt down at her side and checked for a pulse, even as I knew it was too late.

"I'm sorry, Mhairi," I murmured, closing her eyes. Two guards rushed over, removing her body. Remaining on the ground I watched Oghren, who was snoring on his feet, and Anders.

"They will awaken in time," Varel said behind me.

"I know," I replied. "And I'll be here when they do."

"As you wish, Commander," he said, and passed me two Warden's Oath pendants.

Digging through my pack I removed a bundle of elfroot and began making health poultices while I waited. The head of the guards spoke to me about several issues while I knelt on the floor. A prisoner in the dungeon had survived the attack, apparently. "I want to talk to him before anything is done," I said. "I'll do that first thing tomorrow." I remembered the dungeon in Howe's Denerim estate. "Make sure the prisoner is fed. I don't want him mistreated." After he left a woman named Mistress Woolsey, who was sent by the Wardens, talked about trade routes. She had been sent to handle our finances, arriving today with the king. I laughed.

"Commander, is something funny?"

"I was just thinking, during the Blight there were many evenings when I only got to eat if we went hunting since we had less than ten silvers between us all. Now I have someone to handle money for me since I'll apparently have so much of it."

She chuckled. "Well, I won't say what you managed to do during the Blight was at all usual."

Oghren had begun to stir. He blinked several times.

"Welcome, brother," I said with a grin.

"It worked?"

"Like there was ever any doubt!" I answered.

He looked over to where Mhairi had been standing and I shook my head. "Poor kid," he muttered. I could only nod in agreement when Anders groaned. He sat up slowly, rubbing his head.

"Welcome, brother," I greeted him and smiled.

"Bad dreams," he muttered.

"That's normal."

He looked around. "Where's…"

"She didn't make it," I told him. I handed each of them a pendant. "These contain a few drops of blood from the Joining. We wear them in memory of those who have already made the ultimate sacrifice." I pulled mine out from under my robes to show them. "At mine I was the only survivor of three."

I turned to Varel, giving them both a chance to collect themselves. "I'd like them assigned quarters in the same wing as me, as of now these two are both the senior Wardens in Ferelden." He nodded. "Is there a housekeeping staff here?"

"Yes, Commander. Most survived, so we should be fine. The Darkspawn left the residential areas untouched."

"Thank the Maker," I muttered with a yawn. "Have their quarters prepared, and have a bath drawn in all of our rooms."

"Anything else?"

"One thing before you take the rest of the night off to get some sleep. Which is, by the way, an order. Can you tell me, where _is_ my room? This place is almost as big as the palace!"

He gave me directions and I turned to leave. Mistress Woolsey caught me before I could go, though. "Commander, you really must-" I cut her off.

"Mistress, I got up at dawn yesterday. I rode straight through until I arrived here at dusk, stopping only once to eat. I fought darkspawn from dusk until midafternoon. After that I met with the king, argued with a templar, and watched one of my recruits die. Even during the blight I took time for occasional meals and rest, visiting the city can wait another day." She made a face at me so I went on, making my face look as tired as I could. "If I don't get food and sleep very soon I'm going to collapse on the floor right here, and none of us want that. My skirt may fly up. I could drool on the carpet. If I have a nightmare my screaming would scare the new Wardens. It would be very undignified. Plus, I'm starting to get that thing where your hands shake and you see little sparkles in the corner of your eyes that move away when you try to look at them."

She blinked several times. "Go to bed, Commander." I nodded. _Try and keep me up three days straight, will you?_ I thought to myself.

"Please have someone wake me if the darkspawn return, the Keep is on fire, or somebody dies." I shuffled away, gesturing for Anders and Oghren to follow me to the larder. While I dug through shelves a cook came in and tried to shoo me away. After I turned she paled, realizing who I was, and skittered out the door. "That's right," I muttered around a chunk of chocolate I had shoved in my mouth. "My food."

"How can you eat?" Anders asked.

"Well," I mused, "I didn't just drink a chalice of darkspawn blood. And Wardens eat a lot. Prepare to spend every meal surrounded by people who worry you may steal their plate next, and their pets soon after. That may take a couple days to kick in." He eyed the loaf of bread, brick of cheese, and three apples I had placed in a small basked.

"So, that's…"

"All mine. You'll see soon enough." I ate as we walked, pretending not to notice Anders open-mouthed stare as I devoured the food.

"I always thought you and the little pike-twirler were just pigs," Oghren mused.

I elbowed him. "Hey, Alistair and I both told you Wardens eat a lot."

"Doesn't mean I _believed_ you."

We climbed the stairs slowly. "You're probably going to have nightmares tonight," I said. "I'm sorry."

"Like from earlier?" Anders asked.

"I couldn't say. I joined during a blight, so mine will always be worse than what most Wardens get. Eventually you'll learn to block them out." _Until the Calling,_ I thought to myself. "We can talk more tomorrow, I'll give you all the gory details. You two get some rest."

I walked into my suite, leaving the two of them to decide which rooms they would take. The front room was set as a sitting area, with small couches on tiny wooden legs and delicate tables. Boxes crowded every surface, looking overwhelming. I shook my head. _Orleasan furniture?, _I thought._ Perfect, if I'm a princess hosting a tea party_. Hopefully Varel could get me a desk and some bookshelves. The second room contained an enormous bed, several armoires, and a screened off bath area. Fortunately both rooms were free of paintings, I had feared there would be a giant portrait of Arl Howe above my bed. Tossing the now empty basket to the floor, I shrugged out of my robes, washed the blood off myself, and climbed into bed.

The next morning I was up before Oghren and Anders. After pulling on a plain tevinter robe I popped down to the throne room and found Varel reading a book.

"Good morning, Commander," he said as I entered.

"'morning, Varel. Please, call me Maggie." He nodded. "So, in my rooms I have a bunch of very pretty little Orleasan tables that wouldn't support a bottle of wine, and couches prancing on tiptoe." He laughed. "Can you get someone to hunt me down some bookshelves, a desk, and maybe a handful of real chairs instead? Ones that won't collapse under Oghren? I have a couple hours to kill before our new brothers join us, I'd like to unpack." He nodded and I caught Mistress Woolsey entering the room. "I have to speak to both of them once they're awake. After that I'll deal with the prisoner, and then we'll head into the city to see about the attacks on caravans." She looked relieved when I said this. "How long of a walk is that? Or do we have horses? I think mine bolted in the attack."

Varel thought for a moment. "Well, we did find your horse, it's stabled. No others though, should I get some? The city is two days on foot to at an easy pace, I'd say."

"Horses would be very nice," I said, and caught Woolsey shaking her head. "But I don't think we have room in the budget just yet. It's OK, I've walked the length of Ferelden a dozen times over, I can handle walking a single arling."

With that I headed to the larder again, this time introducing myself to the cook. She packed me enough food for three Wardens, which I hauled up to my room. "Assume one Warden will eat as much as two or three normal people," I told her, but she looked at me dubiously. Once I returned to my room I found my dirty robes had disappeared and the bed made. While it was kind of nice, since I assumed I would be leaving those luxuries behind with the palace, it did seem a bit silly to have someone making beds for what should be an order of hardened battle-ready warriors. I pried open boxes until I found my writing supplies. Balancing on one of the absurd tables, which did indeed shake under the pressure of the quill, I wrote two identical notes.

I'm in the study off my bedroom.  
Come find me when you get up.  
-Maggie

After slipping a note under the doors on either side of my own I set to unpacking.


	7. the story behind the robes

_I just found out I'm getting an A in my creative writing class so far, I guess it's inspired me to write. A lot. I may have another chapter up today. This party banter made me laugh so much in the game. Oghren's "really?" totally got me. _

_

* * *

_

I had been sorting out my clothes and personal items for an hour when an unfamiliar voice called me from the study. I ran out before they could shout again. "Sssh- I don't want to wake the other Wardens."

The guard, burdened by a large empty bookshelf, set it down softly. "I wouldn't worry, the walls here are thick."

"If you say so," I told him and gave instructions on how I wanted the room set up. They quickly set about replacing the furniture, hanging my antique Warden weapons, and putting up the paintings rescued from Solders Peak while I unpacked the rest of my few belongings. I had finally whittled down the pile of crates to just two, containing books and my writing supplies.

"You must really like griffons," someone said from behind me. I turned and saw a sleepy looking Anders hovering in the doorway looking at the wall now covered in antique shields, swords and crossbows. "Or weapons."

"Why not both?" I asked him. "Come on in, pull up a chair. I made them redecorate for me. There's food on the table there, help yourself."

He grabbed a loaf of bread and fell into an overstuffed leather armchair, watching me unpack the final box. "While I admit I don't know you well, Commander" Anders began, "being so concerned with decor seems to be a bit out of character."

"You didn't see this place before. All teensy Orleasan chairs and tables. Utterly useless. Felt like I was trapped in a doll house. And call me Maggie, please. We're an order of equals."

"Short for Margaret?" He asked. I nodded. "I used to see you around, but never knew your name. You're a few years younger than me, right?"

"I wouldn't know," I answered. "I have no idea how old you are. I suspect so, though, since you've managed to escape half a dozen times. I'd guess that to be all post-Harrowing since they would tranquil you in a second if you escaped as an apprentice, and I only had mine about three years ago."

"I'll be one and thirty in a month," he answered.

I stared up at him. "You know your birthday?"

"I was almost a teenager when I went to the Circle," Anders explained, bitterness in his voice.

"That explains it," I said.

"Explains what?"

"Why you've been so desperate to get out. I was four when I arrived, I didn't know what I was missing. If I had…"

"And now?"

"I wouldn't give it up for anything," I said honestly. "Why do you think Alistair's so worried about me causing problems with the Chantry? About two seconds after you told me you were an apostate I was already plotting, and he knew it the moment that templar opened her mouth."

"And here I thought it was my boyish good looks and your horrible healing skills," he joked. "So, how old are you, then? Roughly."

"Five or six and twenty."

"Huh, you look younger." He didn't seem to have anything else to say, so I resumed my unpacking. Putting the final box in the fireplace I cast a spell to crush it. When the wood collapsed into a neat pile I cast again to light the fire.

"How do people manage without being able to do that?" I mused.

"You ask the only other person here who could do the same thing?" Anders replied with a chuckle.

"Point." I sat at the chair closest to the fire, stretching my legs. "Sleep OK?"

He shrugged. "Nightmares, like you said. They didn't last all night, though. I'll live." Anders pulled his chair closer to the fire. "Still waiting for that hunger thing to kick in."

"Really?" I asked with a grin. "So you always ate two full loaves of bread for breakfast?" He looked at the small chunk of bread remaining in his hand and blinked. "See, I'm not entirely clueless."

"I take it we need to wait for the dwarf before you tell me the bad news?" he asked, and I nodded in response.

"I'd rather not go through it twice."

"Well, if you're going to leave me in suspense, I want entertainment." He waved his hand towards the lute sitting on one of the bookshelves.

"Trust me, you don't. Leliana tried to teach me to play, but I'm awful."

"So tell me a story," he said.

"What, I'm a bard now? You want to hear about Dane and the Werewolves?"

Anders rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm not familiar with _that_ one. That's exactly what I want. I'd also like a glass of warm milk and a stuffed mabari doll." I chuckled. "Tell me about you. How did you leave the Circle? What was the blight like? How accurate are the songs about you?"

"There are songs about me?"

"You never heard _Ballad of the Hero of Ferelden_? Or _The Maker's Mage_?"

I winced. "I hope I never do. That second one especially. The title is…"

"Horrible?" he supplied helpfully.

"Very." I agreed. "OK, I'll start with the Circle. Did you know Jowan?"

His eyes widened. "So it's _true!_"

"Wait, what's true? If you knew why did you ask?"

"The templars were talking about it when they overheard someone saying you were on the way here. You know, before they met their untimely ends. I wondered if it was accurate."

"What did they say?" I asked, curious.

"That you two were lovers, and in some kind of blood magic pact. After your harrowing when you discovered he was about to be made tranquil both of you took a priest hostage and tried to escape after destroying your phylacteries. He got away, but you didn't, and that's when the Wardens conscripted you. There were hints that you enthralled the Warden who was there to force him into it. You later hunted Jowan down and killed him in revenge for his escaping without you and working with Loghain."

I howled with laughter until tears spilled down my face. "Oh Maker, that's _awesome_. I can't believe it. No wonder people act strange around me if that's what they say. I can't _wait _to tell Jowan, he'll love it!"

"Not true, I take it? That's a shame, it was a pretty exciting story. I was rather surprised to meet you after hearing that. You didn't live up to what I expected. I pictured someone much more obviously evil."

"As opposed to my subtle evil?" I asked him. "Wow, where to begin… Well, first, Jowan was my best friend, but we were never lovers. The Chantry girl was his lover; they were the ones trying to escape so they could get married. He was a blood mage, I didn't know at the time. He taught me, but not until much later. The part about it being just after my Harrowing, and destroying his phylactery was true. Mine had already been sent to Denerim, though. We got caught leaving the vaults. He panicked and cast a blood spell, the priest totally lost it and said she never wanted to see him again, and he bolted. I was conscripted since the templars didn't want to let me leave after that, but the Wardens had been there to evaluate me as a potential recruit in the first place. I was head of my class in primal and they needed combat mages for the battle."

He weighed that for a bit. "That makes much more sense after meeting you. A lot less exciting, though. What about the last part? Obviously not true if he lives, but what did happen?"

"Well, the Chantry thinks the last part is true, since that's what I told them." He leaned forward in his chair, grinning. "Amazing what they believe with a burned bit of a robe as evidence."

"Well?"

"He did work for Loghain, but he didn't have a choice. I freed him from that mess, and he spent the Blight guiding refugees North, using magic to protect them from darkspawn. I visited him not too long ago to meet his new wife, she was one of the refugees. She's rather lovely woman, and they're expecting a child by the end of winter. I'm hoping to visit again after that."

It was his turn to laugh after I said that.

"He said if it's a girl they'll name her after me." Anders was roaring at this point, doubled over.

"What's got skirt boy so riled up?" Oghren asked from behind us.

"Hey Oghren, I'm just telling him about Jowan, another mage from the Circle. Food over there," I pointed. He made a large plate and pushed a chair over to join us by the fire.

"So, a mage, huh? What's it like," he said looking at Anders, between mouthfuls of food.

I sat, waiting for whatever punchline Oghren was working towards. He never expressed curiosity about being a mage before, there had to be some reason he was asking Anders now.

"To have all this power at my fingertips?" Anders replied, taking the bait. I tucked my legs under me and covered my mouth, hiding the growing grin.

"No," Oghren said, grin too wide to be mistaken even behind the beard. "To always have to wear a skirt?" He roared with laughter. Anders didn't miss a beat, though.

"Oh, you don't know the story behind the robes?" He paused, smiling innocently. "You know how strict things are in the Circle, right? Of course you do." At this point his smile took on a decidedly wicked quality. "Well, the robes make quick trysts in the corner easy. No laces or buttons. You're done before the templars catch on." I felt myself blushing and resisted the urge to cover my cheeks.

"Really?" Oghren asked, his eyes as big as dinner plates.

"Just ask anyone," Anders insisted, turning to me with a wink.

"Warden!" Oghren said, followed quickly by "Maggie! Is it true?"

"Well," I drawled, trying to salvage some dignity from the conversation. "That's not the only reason for the robes."

"But IS IT TRUE?" Oghren insisted again.

I sighed in defeat. "Yeah, it's pretty much true."

He stared at both of us. "Sodding mages. That's no fair."

"It's not like we spend all our time in the Circle just looking for a chance to get into each others' robes," I protested.

"Well, of course," Anders said. "We also had to eat and sleep on occasion. And go to class. But otherwise…" He grinned at me. I mentally urged him to stop talking. The first thing I realized after leaving the tower was that normal people did _not_ act like mages. After one of my more innocent stories turned Alistair's ears red and sent him jogging to the other side of camp I learned not to discuss some topics.

"Why did I think conscripting you was a good idea?" I groaned. Oghren stared at us and cackled. "Laugh it up, Oghren." I cast Anders a dirty look. He only responded with an angelic smile.


	8. sodding Antivan all over again

_More straight from game dialogue, but tweaked heavily._

_Didn't finish this chapter last night since I went to see VNV Nation (for the fifth time! woo!). And met the band. If they tour near you, go. Seriously. Best live show EVER._

_As always, thanks so so much for the reviews!!!_

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I waited for Oghren to calm down and stop laughing, while Anders looked at him with an expression Alistair would have described as "the cat who ate a pidgeon." Once he had calmed down and set his breakfast plate aside I sighed.

"So, I believe I promised you both a lot of really unpleasant news?"

Anders nodded, looking slightly paler than usual. I got up, closing the door and locking it.

"OK, first I'll tell you, this can't be told to anyone outside the order. Not ever. Not under torture, not under threat of death. Grey Wardens are vital, and if this is public knowledge we would collapse, no one would join." I sat back down, resting my head on my hands, elbows on my knees, while I gathered my thoughts. Looking in to the fire I began to talk. I told them how the archdemon is killed, and what happens if a Warden doesn't make the final blow. I told them what happens to the Warden who kills an archdemon, even though I hoped none of us would ever face something like that again. I told them about the cuts to family ties, inability to inherit titles and land, and about the near-impossibility of having a child. Neither of them said anything in response.

I paused, taking a breath. "You've noticed the nightmares already. Eventually you'll learn to block them out, perhaps entirely. In about thirty years, give or take, the nightmares will return, worse than ever. That's referred to as the Calling. It's how we know that our days are numbered. We go to the Deep Roads, in Orzammar, so we can die taking as many darkspawn out with us as we can."

Anders was the first to speak. "What happens if we don't want to go?" His voice was calm, perfectly measured.

I could feel tears in my eyes, and I blinked them away. Duncan didn't cry, Alistair didn't cry, I shouldn't cry. "We go to the Deep Roads because the alternative is a death from darkspawn corruption, most prefer a chance to go down fighting. I'm sorry." I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand impatiently. "I'm so so sorry. I wish I could have told you both before."

Oghren replaced his hand on my shoulder once more. "Aye, but does anyone think I'd have made it much more than that, anyways?" I covered his hand with my own and gave him a small smile.

I couldn't bring myself to look at Anders, who was much younger than Oghren, and who could easily have lived another fifty years, had he not met me. "So," I said, returning my gaze to the fireplace, "that's it."

"Nothing else?" Anders again, his voice still calm.

"For down sides? I don't know of any. You'll always be hungry. You may find your stamina and endurance have improved- I'm sure you've heard the jokes about _that_." I managed a slight roll of my eyes, and Oghren laughed. "You have more energy, you heal faster and require less rest and less sleep in general. And, of course, you'll be able to sense darkspawn. After a few months it may become accurate enough you can tell how many, and what kind. Do you have any questions?"

"I do," Anders said. I looked at him, his face was expressionless. "you were there yesterday, right? When the templars decided to hang me?" I nodded. "So, you do realize you're giving me thirty years, instead of the two weeks or so I would have had with them on the ride back to the tower?"

"I can't look at it that way," I shrugged. "I need to see my own actions, not the what ifs."

"Well, I can," he said. "I'll take thirty years of freedom over a twice that in the Chantry's cage. It's not complete freedom, but it's a step." He sighed. "My life was measured in days. No way would I have been able to sneak out that time."

"So, you don't hate me? You're not mad?" I didn't entirely believe him.

"Were you, when you found out? Be honest, Maggie."

"No, I wasn't. I actually said almost the exact same thing to Alistair when he told me. I'm pretty sure they would have executed me for the whole Jowan thing, though."

"Oh, well, you know what they say," Anders replied, his voice shifting more towards the levity I had become used to, "Great minds, all that." I managed a smile, feeling the weight lift from my shoulders. "Aw, did you cry because of us?" he asked lightly, wiping my face with a clean rag from his robe pocket. "I'm all warm and fuzzy inside!"

At that point I laugh, a little. "Funny. The archdemon barely made me blink. Faced with you two, I bawl. Don't tell anyone, it'll ruin my reputation."

I sent them off to get ready to go out for the day and met everyone in the main hall. "What now, fearless leader?"

"Let's go see this remarkable prisoner," I said. "They told me it took _four_ Wardens to take him down. Four!"

Oghren cast me a glance. "Maggie…"

"What?"

He shook his head, walking ahead of me. I could catch muttering. "…_sodding Antivan all over again…"_

We entered the dungeon, and I was relieved to see it was just a plain room with an unadorned cell. After discovering what Howe got up to at his Denerim estate I had been half-expecting torture devices and years of dried blood. "Both of you, be nice," I muttered over my shoulder. Anders started to raise a protest, but Oghren just sighed.

"Should have figured this," he muttered.

"What?" Anders asked, noticing he was missing something.

Oghren only belched in response, which caused Anders to mutter "eww" and walk faster, to stand near me instead of the dwarf.

A man about my age sat in the cell, wearing rough peasant clothes, but with the posture and bearing of someone raised in nobility. There was a strange familiarity about him, but I couldn't place it. He didn't _look_ like someone who could take down three Wardens in a fight, which must have meant he was trained as a rogue. _Well, I do need someone who can pick locks_, I thought to myself. I sent the jailer away and opened the cell door.

"If it isn't the great hero, conqueror of the blight and vanquisher of all evil," the man greeted me. "Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall, with lightning bolts shooting out of your eyes?"

"My hands," I replied. He looked at me blankly. "The lightning bolts, they shoot out of my _hands_." I demonstrated against a wall, adding "zap" as it hit. He only rolled his eyes, so I guessed my attempts at being cute and charming were going over about as well as a brick.

"Somehow I thought that my father's murderer would be… more impressive." I stared at him, my mouth open. _Murderer?_ "I am Nathanial Howe, my family owned these lands until you showed up. Do you even remember my father?"

That would be the familiarity. If the old Arl had managed to look dark and brooding instead of slimy and creepy it would have been more obvious. "Arl Howe brought his end on himself," I said. "I remember him, he gave me this," I pulled one shoulder of my robes aside, revealing the scar where Howe had run me through. I'd been forced to heal it myself, since I ended up in Fort Drakon not long after. I didn't do a great job, and it was rather brutal looking. "I gave him a chance to yield more than once, he refused."

And, of course, as the nobles do, he started talking about how his father served against the occupation. I'm constantly amazed by how many people who were heroes before I was born, and managed to be monsters now. Did they get bored without Orlais around to fight or something?

"The occupation ended thirty years ago, we were almost lost to the Blight because people couldn't put it behind them," I said.

He ignored me, and admitted he had come here to kill me. _Big surprise there, and good luck with that plan,_ I thought. His face crumpled after saying it, though. "But then, I realized I just wanted to get some of my family's things; it's all I have left."

He seemed to be completely sincere in that, at least. His face was miserable, shoulders stooped. He looked broken and lost. "Why didn't you just ask? I would have given them to you."

"Right, I could just stroll up, introduce myself, and you would hand everything over to your old enemy's son?"

Oghren spoke up behind me, "That's _exactly_ what she'd do."

"Why would I keep your family mementos from you because of something you didn't do?" I shrugged, looking at him. "Believe what you want, but I'm not a _monster_. I know people say family is important." He gave me a strange look, so I added. "I don't have one, myself."

I asked if he knew what his father's crimes were, he brushed me off, saying it didn't matter since he was dead, and the family shouldn't have to pay for it now. I agreed with him, and suggested he should work to restore his family name.

"Right, I'll just ask King Alistair to enter his service. I'm sure he'll give a Howe another chance."

"Actually, I think he would, Alistair's a pretty forgiving guy. But that's beside the point now." I changed the topic, looking at him. "I understand we had a hard time capturing you?"

"I'm not without my skills," he replied ambiguously. "My time abroad wasn't spent chasing skirts and drinking wine."

"and those skills are?"

"Hunting, scouting, poisons. Why do you care?" _I do need a scout,_ I thought briefly.

"Can you pick locks?"

"Obviously. Why does it matter?" His voice was hostile, but he didn't look prepared to attack.

"And if I let you go?"

"Your men barely caught me this time, next time they might not be so lucky," he replied, with menace. I sighed. _So much for not wanting to kill me. _

"Not making the best case for yourself here," Anders interjected.

"Should I lie, then?" the prisoner asked.

"Do you really hate me so much?" I asked him.

He sighed, sitting back on the bench of his cell. "The darkspawn are a menace. If it weren't for the blight maybe my father would never have… done what he did. But I can't do anything about them, can I? It's just you and the Grey Wardens, here in my home."

_Maker preserve me,_ I thought, looking at him. _I hope this doesn't come back to bite me on the ass._ "Get the seneschal," I told the guard. "I've decided."

"sodding Antivan all over again," Oghren said from behind me, as Varel entered.

"OK, I'm just going to have to remember to ask for the story behind that soon," Anders said.

"Commander," Varel began.

"Maggie."

"Commander _Maggie_," he replied with a smile. "You've decided?"

"Did you know this is Nathanial Howe?"

"The Howes are implacable enemies, Commander."

"My argument was with his father, not this man. I wish to invoke the right of conscription."

Both Varel and Anders managed to say "you _what_?" at the same time.

He argued with me, but I didn't listen. Howe jumped to his feet, face turning red. "No, absolutely not! Hang me first!"

"You said the darkspawn are a menace, and thanks to your father we don't have enough Wardens to fight them. You want to redeem your name. We all win. Isn't this better than dying?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Hard to say. You like having Grey Wardens who wanted you dead?"

"Some of my best friends have wanted me dead."

"You are a very strange woman," he replied.

"You'd be surprised by how often I get that."

We all headed back into the keep. I told Mistress Woolsey our trip to the city was put off another day and she sighed, but mercifully didn't argue. Oghren retreated to his keg, but Anders stood near me to watch the ceremony. When Howe collapsed backwards I nodded.

"That's disturbing looking."

"It is, but we all looked the same way." Varel handed me a Warden's Oath pendant and I kneeled by Nathaniel's prone form. "He'll wake soon."

"So what's this story about the Antivan," Anders asked. "Oghren keeps bringing it up, I'm curious."

"I'll tell you another time, I promise." I said, frowning. I really didn't want to think about it at all, but it wasn't exactly a state secret. Nathaniel began to groan.

"Welcome, brother," I said as he opened his eyes.


	9. always with the presents for everyone

Nathanial had insisted on getting to work immediately, even when I offered him a chance to rest for a day. Not wanting to argue and get further onto each other's bad sides, I decided we could deal with whatever problems the guards had encountered in the subbasement, and inspect the damage to the outbuildings today. He didn't have to know that wasn't our original plan, and I didn't want to take him with us to the city until I was a little more confidant he wouldn't stab me in my sleep at camp. It seemed like that would be a fairly pathetic end, all things considered.

The dwarven stonecrafter who was working on the wall reinforcements (_or would be, as soon as I paid him_, I reminded myself) had taken over the basement to clear out some rubble before we could continue. Wandering through the fields an old man approached us, I vaguely remembered him being introduced as the groundskeeper, but it wasn't me he wanted to talk to. "Little Nate!" he called, with a grin. I tried not to laugh at his nickname. Mine wasn't much better, after all.

While he and Nathanial spoke Anders leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Was this a good idea?"

"Seems ok so far," I answered. "And we need a rogue. I can't pick a lock or scout to save my life, can you?"

"He wants to kill you!"

"Sure, now he does. He'll come around; I've been told I'm not nearly as obviously evil as the stories would lead one to believe." Anders rolled his eyes at me. "Give him a chance; I think it'll work out."

"I noticed you didn't give him a chance to leave."

"No, I didn't. He did say he wanted to kill me, though. If he hadn't I think I would have sent him off with whatever he came to get. His own fault, with that 'the next time you might not catch me' nonsense."

Anders didn't get a chance to reply since Nathanial was striding over to us, smiling for the first time since we met. He announced that his sister was alive, according to the groundskeeper, and living in the city.

"That's wonderful news!" I told him. Maker's breath, did he think I had killed her, too? No wonder he hates me. "We're headed there tomorrow, actually."

"Do you think we could look for her?" he asked me.

"I don't see why not. Think of any family items you might want to bring her, if they're small we can carry them." Nathanial beamed and fell back in line behind me.

"You are a devious woman," Anders whispered with a chuckle. His breath tickled my ear.

"What did I do?"

He shook his head, speaking in a normal tone now as we approached a burned out building. "You honestly don't know, do you?"

As I jotted down notes on the damage a small noise caught my attention. Looking behind a bush I discovered a very tiny, very unhappy looking tabby cat. I gently lifted the cat up, displaying him to my companions.

"Oh, look at the cute little kitty!" Anders exclaimed.

"You have got to be kidding," Oghren muttered, staring at the mage.

He ignored him, bending over make cooing noises at the kitten.

"Do you remember the mousers in the tower?"

"I used to sneak them milk and scraps of food. The templars would get so mad at me. I think they hated the cats just because the mages loved them so much."

"My favorite was Mr. Wiggums. After one of my escapes they put me in solitary. That cat was the only person I saw for a year. Except for not being a person." He sighed. "Still, I liked him. Poor Mr. Wiggums."

"Why poor Mr. Wiggums?"

"He became possessed by a rage demon- but he did take out three templars. I was never more proud."

I gasped, and choked a little. "Wait, that was _true?_ I thought Jowan made that whole story up! How would a cat become possessed??"

"All true. What an amazing cat he was…" Anders looked wistful, even sad. I was tempted to hug him but... hm, no, that would be a bad idea. The urge to do so had been going through my mind far too often since we met. No pawing the recruits, I had to remind myself even in an order of equals, I was nominally their boss. No more clever flirty blondes.

"Hold out your hands," I said. He did, a look of curiosity on his face. I gently dropped the tiny kitten in his outstretched palms. "There you go." Anders grinned, nuzzling the cat with his cheek.

"I don't know if we should keep him. We get into some dangerous scraps." Even as he spoke he was holding the kitten to his chest protectively, scratching him behind the ears.

"So let him stay at the Keep. I wouldn't expect you to carry him everywhere anyways."

"I suppose… until I find someplace safer." He looked down at the kitten and cooed. "Is that all right with you, kitty?" The cat licked his palm and purred, settling the matter.

We finished the inspection, with Nathanial occasionally providing insight into what the buildings had originally been used for and breaking into some of the locked chests we found along the way. After returning to the Keep I met with him briefly in the room he chose, presenting the negative aspects of being a Grey Warden in much the same way I had to Oghren and Anders. He wasn't upset, which surprised me, saying only "It seems a fitting way to redeem my family."

I started to leave, and spun back remembering. "One more thing."

"Yes, Commander?"

Andraste's tits, I wish people would just call me by my name. This Commander nonsense was driving me slowly insane. At least Anders had stopped. I don't think Oghren would have started under penalty of death in the first place. It took him months to start calling me Maggie instead of just 'hey Warden,' but that was mostly because he couldn't remember my name in his drunken haze. I could only console myself that they didn't all call me 'my lady,' at least.

"Please call me Maggie. We're an order of equals." He looked at me dubiously. "We are, you know. Anyhow. I found this in the basement earlier. I saw you're an archer, do you want it? It has your family crest on it." I tossed him the antique bow I'd found. It was very old, but still looked to be in good shape, from what little I knew of such things.

He paled, staring at the bow but not saying anything. I waited a second, hoping he would explain, but he didn't. Was there some sort of unspoken bow etiquette I'd just broken in a horrible way? I had no idea. Maybe I should have written Leliana to find out before giving it to him. "Is it… wrong? Is it broken?"

Nathanial shook his head, a small smile forming. "No, it's in perfect shape. It was my grandfather's bow. He left," he paused and chuckled, "he left to become a Grey Warden."

"You didn't tell me your grandfather was a Warden! You're continuing the family tradition!" I exclaimed with surprise. He shrugged and thanked me for the bow, ending the conversation. I left feeling much better, noticing he was still holding the bow, looking at it with a smile.

Oghren cornered me in the hall on the way back to my room. "Maggie."

"Oghren."

"You're doin' it again."

We went into my study, he took a seat by the fireplace. "What am I doing?"

"That- that _thing_ you do."

I grabbed an apple from the bowl on my desk and tossed it to him before selecting another one for myself. "There's a thing I do? Besides the whole killing thing?"

"Don't play dumb with old Oghren. I know you, woman." I dropped into another chair, munching on the apple. In the tower someone would have yelled at me, eating so soon before dinner. No risk of spoiling my appetite now, though. I was constantly hungry. "That _nice_ thing. With the presents! You, always with the presents for everyone."

"What, I should have kept the bow for myself? I'm no archer. Or the kitten? Did you _hear_ him? Going on about his mouser, getting sad, and what, I wander off going 'hey, that's too bad. You can visit my cat sometimes.' You saw how happy he was."

He made a 'harumph' sound, tossing the apple core in the fire. "So where's my present? Can I have a pony? You change your mind about mabari chariots?"

I giggled. "You didn't know? Varel wanted to have the kegs removed, I wouldn't let him. Hope you like them!"

He laughed. "OK, that's good too." We were still giggling when we got to the dining hall, mostly aided by a brief stop at the kegs on the way.

Dinner was mostly quiet, but only because between the four of us no one wanted to stop eating long enough to make conversation. At one point Anders did get into a debate with Nathanial, trying to explain how he was just like a mage: being blamed for something he was born as. I thought his argument was fairly sound, but the Howe would have none of it. "Being a Howe does not allow me to control your mind," Nathanial argued. I sighed, always back to that mind control thing. I'd never even met someone who could do that. Even Uldred, when he tried to take over the tower, had to all but destroy people with torture before they were susceptible. Maker's breath, I _was_ one of those scary dreaded maleficar, and I didn't even know how to control a mind. Not that I had any interest in learning, for that matter.

We dispersed, with the men heading to their own rooms for the evening. I spoke to the head of the guards and Varel for more information on what we should do in Amaranthine when we arrived, making a list since I knew I would forget. At least one of the issues involved darkspawn, so that was something. I think the political types were forgetting what our actual job was. Every time Varel tried to bring up meeting 'my vassals' I winced, and wondered if Weisshaupt could send us a commander from Rivain, or the Free Marches, or even Antiva, just to get me out of the politics. Just not Orlais. Not that I would care, I just knew it would be... bad. Leading us when the biggest decision was 'kill things over there first,' wasn't a big deal. Now I felt like people were watching my every move, judging me at every turn. I had no idea how long I would be able to keep up the illusion of knowing what I was doing while I made everything up off the top of my head.


	10. I like stories

_Tintreasch is just the Irish word for lightning ( I told my mom I'd put those classes to use someday!). I just figured, hey, if I could shoot lightning at people, and spent time with others who could, odds are we'd find ways to incorporate it into gambling. The game is basically drinking-blackjack._

_I always write absurdly long chapters and end up splitting them in two, which is why I usually post two chapters close together._

_Love for everyone who adds me to their favorite and watch lists, and especially my reviewers! You all get happy dances. _

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Swinging by the kitchen to get a dish of cream for the kitten, I headed upstairs. Anders didn't answer his door when I knocked, so I left the saucer on the floor, pushed against the wall that separated our doors. Hopefully no one would step on it. Turning back to my room, I grabbed a copy of Orlesian legends off the shelf and curled up on my bed to read.

I was lying on my bed reading when I heard a door open outside, followed by a stream of curses. Someone knocked on my door a moment later.

"Come in," I shouted, adding "unless you're here to kill me. If you are, go away." The door opened and a moment later Anders peeked into my room.

"Do your assassins usually knock?"

"No, but I always hope someone will start hiring ones with manners." He smiled and walked in, feet bare.

"I _should_ kill you, I just drenched my socks with cream. But then, you fed Ser Pounce-A-Lot, so I can't get too mad. I really came here to see if you would be interested in a game of Tintreasch?"

"Senior Apprentice Rules?" I asked, with a grin.

"Is there any other way to play?"

"Oh, there is," I said laughing. "Found that out the first time I played with non-mages. They were _so_ mad." I remembered Zevran looking at me like I had lost my mind, and Leliana jumping away from the table, declaring she would never play cards with a mage again. I just assumed normal people smacked each other for penalties or something. Not that they drank.

"I didn't even know other people played Tintreasch, I thought it was a mage-only game. How do they handle it when they go over 21?"

"They drink a shot."

"So they _reward_ it then? Well that makes no sense."

"No, but it is fun."

He stood for a second, thinking, and a smile crossed his face. "I propose a rule change."

"oh?"

"Warden Mage Rules. Be right back." He bolted from the room. I had a strong suspicion of what Warden Mage Rules implied, and dug out my card deck, as well as a couple shot glasses I'd stashed in my desk. I also found a few minor health poultices, to be safe.

Anders returned, a bottle of whiskey in hand. "Let's play by the fire, I'm freezing."

I grabbed a couple blankets from my bedroom and shoved the chairs out of the way, sitting on the floor. Anders looked at me when I did this, but I shrugged. "If I drink that it's only a matter of time before I fall down. And if I fall down, I don't want to fall very far. Here, take a blanket." He wrapped himself up, settling happily by the blaze.

"You named him Ser Pounce-A-Lot?" I asked.

"Yes! That's a perfect name for a cat. He just finished his cream, and he's sleeping on my bed right now." His face lit up as he told me about the kitten.

I sat on the other blanket and shuffled, passing the cards to Anders once I was done. He dealt quickly, putting the pile between us as we examined our hands. I drew a card, giving me 20. "I'll stand." Anders selected a card and groaned, he set it down revealing a hand of 23. I shouted "Ha!" He held his arm out, turning his face away dramatically. Magical energy crackled from my fingertips, landing on the back of his hand. He winced, and poured himself a shot.

We each discarded our hands and drew new cards. I looked over my cards, Anders was studying his as though he could make the values change in his hand through force of will alone. Drawing again, I smiled. "ahem. Tintreasch! I got 21!"

"You are a horrible person, Commander."

This bolt of energy was twice as powerful as the last one. "Everyone I've met with the title Commander is a grizzled old man with a beard. I might not know my birthday but I know I'm not old. And if I ever grow a beard I'm running to the Deep Roads, Calling or not. That's just scary."

"Ow." He tossed back another drink. "Fine, 'you are a horrible person, Maggie.' Better?"

I rolled my eyes and drew for the next round, sneaking a glance of the fire reflecting off the stubble on his cheek. He won the next two rounds, and I began to wonder why every apprentice in the tower loved this game. Half an hour later the wisdom of Anders' modified rules set in, as I noticed my hand wasn't hurting anymore.

"Soooo," he said, drawing cards, "this Antivan elf assassin thing Oghren can't let go."

"What about it," I asked, checking my hand. I was slightly ahead in the game, so I tried to deflect the question. Why did I tell him I'd share the story later?

"Exactly! What about it! He keeps talking and I have no idea what he's going on about. I'm curious." I overdrew and sighed, extending my hand. The blast came, and I took a shot.

"Maker! That stuff burns."

"Trying to change the subject? Clever, but not enough! You know all about me, it's only fair."

We drew our cards. "I don't know all about you," I protested. He displayed a 20 to my 19, laughing. I held out my hand but he missed, hitting my knee. "Hey!"

"Sorry. Drink your drink. You can ask me all about me after then. Your story first."

I did as he suggested, missing the deck when I went to draw, but managing on the second attempt. "You and stories."

"I like stories," he grinned.

"Fine. You ever hear of the Antivan Crows?"

He set his cards down. "The famous assassins?" I nodded, waiting for the penalty blast.

Tossing back another drink I winced. "Well, Loghain hired one to kill me. And he tried, but we won."

"It would be a lousy story if you didn't" he said, drawing cards.

"Or a very short one. Scary, though, if I was dead and telling stories. Like one of those creepy Orleasan songs about scorned maidens. I had a friend who loved those." I won, but it was my turn to miss his hand, leaving a small singed spot on the carpet instead.

"That counts!" he said before throwing back another drink.

"I hope I don't get in trouble," I said, looking at the burn.

"You're the one in charge," Anders reminded me.

I giggled. "That's right! I forgot. Putting me in charge… Maker, what were they thinking." He pulled a face and we continued to play.

"So," I went on. "Tried to kill me. Failed. Epic fail, as the dwarves say." He nodded, winning a round. I rubbed my hand and continued. "But, he didn't die. So I thought, hey, ask some questions, maybe find out useful info." I laughed. "But, he goes and tells me about how they _find_ Crows, buying children and torturing them into super-killers and I'm all 'oh, you poor thing,' since I'm an ass like that." Anders laughed at this, but was cut short when I won the round. "Yeah, and he says 'I don't want to be a Crow, take me with you' and made a decent case for it, so we did."

"You're making that up," he said, recovering from my win.

"Nope. So he and I, we talk. And we get along pretty good. You know, growing up a slave, growing up in a cage, lots in common." Anders nodded, grabbing my arm when I didn't offer it after he won a round. "Ow," I protested. "so we talk, and he has a very, um, Circle-like attitude towards. Um. Stuff." I blushed and Anders laughed.

"Maggie, you harlot!"

"Hey, shut up mr. 'oh, you don't know the story behind the robes,'" I replied, trying to imitate his voice. "Anyways. There's that, but I'm an ass, like I said, and I start to…" I shrug.

"Care?"

"yeaaah, let's go with that. In the circle, well, you know how it is. Tons of people everywhere, you move on." He nodded, understanding. "Spending all your time with the same person, it's different. But, we end the blight and everything's just great, we killed the archdemon, live in the palace, he's happy, I'm happy, hurrah. And then like six months ago, seven? Something like that, I wake up and he's not there. And all his stuff is just gone." I take another drink then, even though we've been largely ignoring the card game. "leaves this sodding note, says 'sorry, amora, about time I got back to antiva. All the best, zev' sodding all the sodding best. Seriously. So much for 'With you I would storm the gates of the black city itself.' Jerk."

"Sorry," he said, refilling both of our glasses. "I thought it would be a funny story." I drew new cards, nudging him to continue the game.

"Kinda funny, though," I said after finishing my drink. "great big hero of Ferelden warden commander is really just another stupid girl."

"Noooo. No no no." Anders drawled, drawing a card while giving me a strange look. "_You're_ not stupid. _He's _stupid. Total fool. If he ever shows his face here I'll hit him with lightning." He nodded forcefully as I pulled one more card. Examining our hands Anders sighed. "OK, maybe you're a little stupid. You never draw a card at 19." I waited for the blast, but it never came. Instead there was a crash behind me, and I looked, laughing. He had missed, and knocked over a stand holding my collection of staves. "oops," he said. We both roared with laughter.

"So he told you," Anders was trying not to giggle, and for the most part succeeding, "he would storm the black city with you?" I nodded. "Maggie, come on, I've delivered some good lines in my day. Amazing lines. Brilliant ones. Lines that would weaken the Empress of Orlais herself." I made a face at him, but he went on. "Trust me, that is a very, very good _line_."

I waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. Now I know. Andraste's tits, we were spitting distance from the archdemon. At the time it sounded…" I sat up straight, looking around. "Do you smell something?"

"Is it the dwarf?" Anders replied.

"No…" I looked around and gasped, pointing. "FIRE!" The corner of his blanket had gotten too close to the fireplace, and was now starting to burn. I shrieked as he tried to cast a frost spell to douse it, only managing to cast lightning instead. Concentrating as hard as I could, I reached inside my mind and summoned water and ice. My ears popped as the spell rushed through me.

"What's going on!" a voice screamed from behind us. Anders' eyes widened and he started to laugh. I turned around to see Oghren, dressed only in his smallclothes, carrying a battleaxe. "We under attack?!"

"Uh, we set the blanket on fire. Just a little. By mistake!" I explained, trying to keep a straight face, and failing.

"Well it looks fine now," Oghren replied, eyes narrowed. I looked over. The blanket, fireplace, rug, and both of us were covered in ice. "Just what we need. You and skirt-boy getting sloshed." He stormed back to his room, muttering. I could hear someone else talking in the hall, but only Oghren's reply was clear. "Drunk sparkle-fingers!"

"Did- did _he_ just yell at _us_ for drinking?" Anders asked slowly.

I nodded. "That's scary. We should call it a night. Before we burn the Keep down."

Anders slowly climbed to his feet, offering me a hand once he was up. "You're covered in ice," he said.

"So are you."

He brushed ice off his hair, letting it fall to the carpet, before reaching over and doing the same to me. I looked up at him, his eyes were warm, cheeks flushed from drinking. "I should get to bed. All that walking tomorrow." He didn't move, though, his hand on my hair, brushing it from my face.

"Goodnight, Anders," I forced myself to say.

He grinned. "Goodnight, Maggie." I shut the door behind him and made my way to bed.


	11. the finest threats I'd ever heard

The sheets were stuck to my hand when I woke up. _That can't be good_, I thought, gently peeling them back. Looking at the slightly burnt, bloody mess I shuddered. Nope, not good at all. I winced applying a health poultice from my nightstand before I dragged myself out of bed. My robes were still damp from the melting ice, as was the bedding. Crawling into bed, fully dressed, covered in ice was not my finest idea. Checking the window I saw the sun mocking me from high in the clouds. Midafternoon, then: so much for leaving first thing in the morning for Amaranthine. I was doing a phenomenal job as Commander so far.

After changing into fresh robes I walked into my office, dreading the mess I'd find. There were multiple burn marks on the carpet in front of the fireplace, and one large mark on the wall, but otherwise the room was spotless. Huh. I didn't even hear the maids come in. I had been hoping to wake up before they did, to clean the worst of it myself. I wrote a small note of apology to them and left it in a prominent place on the table.

Anders pounced on me the second I opened my door, the kitten darting around his feet. "Let me see your hand!" I obliged him, wincing from the volume of his voice, and he pulled back the poultice gently. "Maker's breath. I am so sorry about this. No more Warden Mage Rules." He quickly healed my hand and ducked back into his room to toss away the poultice. "Anything else," he asked after returning? "No other burns? You got me once on the shoulder, I don't even _remember_ that."

"No, I'm fine. Just…" I groaned, pushing my hair back from my eyes. "Just not so _loud_. I feel like I've been slamming my head on a wall for the last five hours."

"If I might?" he asked, gesturing to my face. I nodded, and he put a hand to each of my temples. Warmth flooded out from his fingertips and my headache subsided.

"Wow! Now I know that's not a Circle spell."

"Nope, picked it up the second time I escaped. Or was it the third? No matter. I'm _starving._"

"I'm always starving. Let's find everyone and tell them we're heading out after lunch." I paused, remembering only Oghren had traveled with me before and knew what to expect. "You have a tent, right?" He nodded.

Everyone else was already working on lunch when we arrived. Varel raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged. What could I say, though? Sorry, got trashed? The pressure of command got to me after a week? I decided the best way to deal with a handsome mage in my quarters was to whine about my former lover leaving me? "So," I addressed everyone after sitting down. "I guess we'll leave after lunch. Sorry about that, I overslept."

Oghren laughed, wagging a finger at me. "Overslept! Ha! Mages can't handle their booze." He tore into some bread and went on. "Hope you and manskirt had fun." He leered on the last word before laughing more.

Nathaniel snorted from further down the table. "order of equals indeed." I could feel my blush spreading to my ears.

"Actually, Oghren," Anders said, "When _you_ of all people admonished us for drinking we both became so terrified the only thing to do was end the evening." Oghren cast us a doubtful glance, but Nathaniel stopped snickering at least. I gave Anders a grateful look before eating my own lunch.

"Question for you all," I spoke up as we finished the meal. "Can any of you read a map?" Nathaniel snorted.

"You can't read a map?" Nathaniel asked, looking amused. Well, less annoyed than usual. Amused might have been a stretch. I still had hopes he would come around sooner or later, though.

"It never came up before, so no. I always traveled with people who could read them. I take it you can?"

"Of course I can read a map. How old are you?" he asked, shocked. Anders went still next to him, eyes averted, a grin forming.

_Count to ten, count to ten._ I took a breath, resisting the urge to throw my glass at him. "Nathaniel, I was never even _outside_ until maybe three years ago. The Circle doesn't exactly stress cartography. Maps tended to remind us that we were just glorified prisoners who would never see the outside world."

"To the Circle," Anders interjected. "May we live to see it razed. Hurrah!" We clinked glasses.

"By the Ancestors, she found another one," Oghren griped.

"I take it this is normal?" Nathaniel asked him.

"Listen, kid, unless you have a few hours to kill never mention the words Circle or Chantry to that one. She's all sweetness and presents most of the time, sure, but bring up that Circle and she turns into a crazed genlock."

"Oh, you're exaggerating," I told him.

"Oh yeah? How about that last time you talked to Wynne? What did you say when she asked if you would go back?"

"I can't remember my exact words, but I told her I didn't intend on it," I lied, hoping Oghren's usual level of intoxication would make his memory equally fuzzy.

"Let's see if I can remember it." Oghren leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard. "I think it began with 'they would need to freeze me into a solid block of ice and carve my brain out with an axe.'" Oghren's memory was better than I had expected, unfortunately. Anders laughed at this, and Oghren went on. "Then you listed some very specific plans to, what was it, 'escape or smash my head open on the rocks trying." I think the finish was the best part, though. Where you swore about templars for a half of an hour and capped it by promising to rip the cold unfeeling heart out of any who touched you and feed it to them. With your bare hands." Anders applauded.

"How do you remember all this, Oghren?"

"Wrote it down. Your little speech had some of the finest threats I'd ever heard. I was impressed."

"Thank you," I said dryly.

"Here to help."

"All right, why don't we all get our things and meet in the courtyard? Before Oghren remembers more stories."

I waited for everyone else to join me, sitting on the base of a statue of Andraste. Nathaniel was first. He gave me a nod and I handed him our maps. "I'm assuming you wouldn't necessarily need a map to find Amaranthine from here," I said, "but regardless, of us four you're the best one to manage these. Anders is from the Circle, too, and Oghren just moved to the surface during the blight. The terrain still confuses him sometimes."

He nodded, stowing them in his pack. I suspected he was about to say something else when Anders bounded over to us.

"What a looker!" he said loudly, advancing towards me. I blinked and Nathaniel snickered again, but we both realized a moment later that Anders was actually addressing the statue I was sitting under. "You'd think she would look more like a barbarian."

"Barbarians were just people. Dress them up like we do and I doubt that they'd look any different."

"What would Andraste think about the Circle? You know, imprisoning mages, making them fight demons or be made tranquil."

"I don't think she'd like it, taking children from families, raising them to be afraid and ashamed. She was against the Tevinter mages because they did horrible things and enslaved people, not because they were mages."

"I agree. She counseled men to seek their own path to the Maker. Now the Chantry locks us up just for being what we are."

"I think goes against the Chant. Magic exists to serve man. How do you do that in a tower? We should be allowed to become healers and fighters, actually use these powers for something."

"And now we do," he grinned.

"I must say, listening to the two of you agree with each other incessantly is riveting." Nathaniel rolled his eyes, wandering off to get more arrows off Wade. Oghren stumbled out not long after and we set out.

We didn't even make it a third of the way to the city by nightfall. I had pulled us off course three or four times to go after small bands of darkspawn on the way, and it set us back. Getting back to killing genlocks and hurlocks seemed fitting, though. In a strange way I guess I had missed it. There was a certain freedom in unleashing all my power against something that wouldn't be missed, and whose loss would be celebrated by everyone. Part of me always wondered if all those bandits who attacked us that we left dead had parents and siblings and children at home, wondering how they went wrong and if they would ever come back. Fortunately it was just the darkspawn today, and something told me broodmothers didn't send their children birthday presents and knitted mittens for winter. Nathaniel looked a little queasy after the first battle, but regained his footing quickly. By the end of the day their monstrosity didn't seem to bother him any more than they did the rest of us. I was impressed. It took me a week or so to really get used to seeing darkspawn.

Making camp near a field I volunteered for first watch, remembering it was the most dangerous. If we're attacked after dark, odds are it will be by another group looking for a campsite after dusk, or close to dawn by darkspawn. The latter would wake me up before they got close, though. Settling near the fire I wished we had a larger group, just so we could double up on watches. Having no one to talk to for hours was agonizingly dull. I passed time by sharpening my blades, making health poultices and, when that was done, just watching the stars and fighting to stay awake.

When my watch was finally over I walked over to Nathaniel's tent, opening the flap just enough to see his leg. I poked him a few times and he began to stir.

"Your watch," I whispered, careful not to wake the others up. Well, to wake Anders up. Oghren was passed out drunk already, I don't think anything shy of an archdemon could rouse him.

"Just a moment," he muttered, and I went back to the fire. He appeared a few seconds later, replacing his bow on his back.

"Second watch can be a real pain. If you feel awful tomorrow I can take it from now on," I offered. It was the safest watch, but also the one that split your rest in two.

"Oghren doesn't take a watch?"

I laughed. "Have you seen how he drinks? He's exactly who you want beside you in battle, but left up alone to guard everyone? Not so much."

"You make a good point. I'll be sure to wake Anders in a few hours." He wished me goodnight and I retreated to my tent.

Laying back on the bedroll I looked up at the familiar lines of canvas, the shape of my pack set beside me in the darkness, the tiny hole near the side that let in just enough moonlight to see where my water flask was. Come dawn I would be able to see the stars I had painted on the upper levels one day, when it was raining too much for us to go anywhere. I hadn't used this tent since the night before we reached Denerim, before killing the archdemon. It still felt completely familiar, more like home than the circle or palace ever had. I rolled onto my side, pulling the blankets up, and fell asleep.

Anders was shaking me awake. "Maggie! Maggie!"

I jumped up, grabbing my staff. "What's wrong?"

He hopped back, startled by my sudden movement. "Um, that's what I wanted to find out. You were screaming."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that all?"

"Is that all? It sounded like someone was trying to cut off your head!"

I sat back on my bedroll, pulling the blankets over my lap. I was only wearing a nightshirt, and it barely covered my legs. Fantastic. "Anders, it was just a nightmare. That's normal."

"That can't be normal, you were _screaming_."

"I joined during a blight, my nightmares will always be worse than other Wardens. I can block most out by now; even when I can't I don't even remember them when I wake up." I yawned and stretched. "What time is it?"

"About an hour until dawn."

"No point in going back to sleep now." He stood, staring at me nervously. "Um, Anders?"

"Yes?"

"I need to get dressed." He looked at me blankly. "Anders, get out of my tent!" I laughed as he jumped from my tent, calling apologies.


	12. Being led around by a madwoman

_This is chapter 1 of 2 I'm posting tonight. Wrote a long one, had to break it up. Some straight from game dialogue, heavily tweaked.  


* * *

_

Nathaniel was also awake and pacing when I left my tent. "Maker's breath, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" I said, feeling guilty. "I'll set my tent further away tomorrow."

"No need to apologize to me, I was concerned."

"Just a nightmare. It was nothing, honestly." He nodded and excused himself, retreating into his tent. I poured some coffee and sat by the fire with Anders. "I'm such an ass," I muttered.

"We were just worried, don't feel bad. He got up while I was trying to decide what to do. Nathaniel said I should be the one to wake you."

"Oh?"

"Well, he thought finding you in his tent, when he threatened to kill you just days earlier, could be upsetting."

"Hm, he makes a good point."

Eventually the others staggered from their tents, we broke camp, and returned to the road. Oghren attempted to get everyone to sing along with a song about a tavern wench, but after the third verse even Anders was blushing. I don't think anyone, anywhere, in the history of Thedas, has ever done… that with a bottle of mead. Just before we passed the city walls Anders stopped, taking a dramatic breath. "Ah, can you smell that? That is the smell of freedom!"

I sniffed. "Smells like apple pie!"

"No, it's definitely freedom. Dogs and dust, too, of course, but the freedom is there."

"Well, this is Ferelden. The smell of dogs goes without saying." He laughed.

"After my last escape they put me in solitary confinement for a year. Eventually I'm sure they would have branded me a maleficar, true or not, and executed me."

"I'm shocked they hadn't already, to be honest," I told him. I quickly added "I'm glad they didn't, though."

"You and me both! You know the Chantry, though. They hate executions since they can't torment you once you're dead." He sighed. "All I want is a pretty girl, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lightning at fools." I had to admit, my short list of goals paralleled his.

"Hey, pretty girl, right here" I teased, elbowing him. Wait, where did that come from? _By Andraste's frilly smallclothes, would you shut up, _I told myself sternly. He raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"Hmmm… Maybe I'm closer to the dream than I imagined." I felt myself blushing, and he added, "Oh, never mind me. I just remember I should be sitting in a cell right about now, and have to smile."

We entered the city proper with Oghren and Nathaniel snickering. I had Nathaniel guide us directly to the local inn. One of the Orlesian Wardens, a man named Kristoff, had been staying here before he disappeared. The innkeeper didn't question me when I asked for the key once I said I was his commanding officer, which I found strange. Could anyone have walked in and said the same? I wasn't even wearing my warden robes, just normal blue and gold Tevinter ones. Sure, during the blight people believed us when we told them we were Wardens, but there was a price on the head of any living member of the order at the time. It wasn't as though people would claim it out of hand for the glory, since there isn't a lot of glory to be found in being a wanted traitor accused of regicide. Now, though, the Wardens were national heroes. I'd seen more than one man in Denerim claiming such a thing at a tavern, hoping to impress a young lady.

Kristoff's room had been empty for well over a week: that much was obvious. A very thin layer of dust covered every inch of the place. I removed his personal belongings to store at the Keep just in case something had happened. He had been married, if he was dead his wife would want them. "This is first," I said, examining his papers and maps to determine where he might be. "Trade routes can't take priority over a missing brother."

"Did you know him," Nathaniel asked me.

"No, but that doesn't matter. I'd hope he would do the same for any of us." I wasn't actually sure he would, having known only a handful of actual Wardens besides me, but I certainly hoped it was true. It seemed like it should be after all. We ate in his room, mostly so I could avoid the drunks of the common area who kept wandering over to us, beginning conversations with lines like "Hey! Hey! Hey, you're… you're that _important person_, right?" _Maker preserve me_, I thought, before Oghren jumped in, insisting we were rather important indeed, and should be given free drinks accordingly. Nathaniel had to drag him away before he made it to the 'falling over' stage of intoxication.

Leaving the inn we were rewarded with an unseasonably warm evening. People were wandering the streets, enjoying the last few hours of daylight. Anders cleared his throat, approaching an elven woman in light armor who was standing just across the narrow street.

I tried not to eavesdrop on their conversation, really I did. I just didn't quite manage to succeed. All I gathered was that she had discovered… something for him in the city, and was quite angry with him. I stood around, trying to look completely fascinated with the city's battlements. It wasn't quite as believable as I had hoped, though, since she turned right to me next. "Word of advice," she said to me. I could see Anders tense up, covering his face with one hand. "Don't let him sweet talk you. He's _very_ good at that." With a final warning to Anders that she would never help him, or any mage, again, she stalked off.

Well doesn't that just figure. I had been hoping he was entertaining and fun in a sincere kind of way, not, well, not like Zevran had been. Not that I cared. Or should care. _Commanding officer, remember_, I told myself. _No pawing the recruits._

"I… suppose that requires an explanation?" Anders offered, face crimson.

"Friend of yours, I take it?" I said, trying to keep my voice light.

"Ooooh, do I detect a note of jealousy?" He giggled as he said this, and I could feel myself blushing. "The last time I escaped I asked Namaya to look into something for me. During the blight some of the phylacteries were moved here, it turns out mine is among them."

I gasped. "Are they all here? Do you think mine could be?"

"I don't know, but mine is. Do you think we could go find it, so I can destroy it?" He was all but bouncing in place as he said this.

"That isn't even the right question." He looked at me. "The question is should we just destroy yours, and hopefully mine, or every damn one of them? We'll go after dark."

He grinned, and we set off for the market district, to find the trade route contact and Nathaniel's sister.

She turned out to be a rather nice woman not much older than me who married a commoner for love, not desperation. And she gave her brother an earful about how evil their father had been, and how he deserved to die. I hoped Nathaniel would listen to her about that, at least. It would greatly reduce the risk of me waking up to a knife in my chest. For his part, he presented her with some of the family jewelry that was in storage at the Keep. I don't think Varel would have been pleased, but Nathaniel did ask me about the items specifically and I said he should. I had no use for anything that wasn't enchanted, and selling someone else's heirlooms because their father was a monster seemed crass. "She's due in the spring," he added, actually smiling. I didn't even realize he knew how!

"So that would make you," I paused, trying to recall common familial terms, "an uncle?" It's amazing what a disadvantage you're at in any normal conversation when you have no context of family relationships.

"It would! I can hardly believe it." The smile fell, though, and he began to muse aloud about what might have happened if he had stayed in Ferelden, wondering if he could have stopped their father.

"It wasn't your fault, Nathaniel," I replied. He nodded, and said he would need to think, so I didn't press him further.

By the time we left it was dark. Stopping briefly back at the inn to arrange rooms, we set off for the templar warehouse. Nathaniel deftly picked the door lock. "I can't believe I'm helping you with this," he said.

"Go, then," I said to him, as well as Oghren. "If you don't want to be involved I won't hold it against you. This isn't Warden business, after all."

Oghren shrugged. "It could be a trap. I'm not letting you two sparkle-fingers in alone." Natianiel agreed, although not in so many words. We walked in, closing the door behind us.

"No guards?" Anders said, in a whisper. "Maybe they don't want to draw attention? Could we be that lucky?"

"Or it is a trap," I replied, peering into the corners of the room. He shrugged as we walked ahead, into the next room of the warehouse. Three templars stood waiting, including the one who was so angry about his conscription, Ser Rylock.

"And here I thought the infamous Anders wouldn't take the bait," she said. He groaned.

"I should have known it was you." He looked crushed.

"You made a poor choice with this one, Commander," she told me. "Anders will never submit, not to us and not to you."

"Submit?" I looked at her. "We're not a bunch of repressed templars. So long as he does his job his life is his own. And he's done just fine so far."

"So far, yes. I'll make sure that this murderer is never a bother to anyone again."

I stepped back, clenching my fists. Templars aren't allowed to go against the right of conscription. If they could the Wardens wouldn't have a single, solitary mage! By the Black City, I was conscripted against the wishes of the very knight commander! "Excuse me? Are _you_ questioning the Grey Warden right of conscription? Who in the Maker's name do you think you are?" I could feel my face getting red with anger. "Those treaties have been in place since the DIVINE AGE," I shouted. "The Grand Cleric herself has no authority over us. What makes you so special, you BITCH?" Energy crackled around my fingertips. Maker, if I didn't hate templars already I would now, feeling my hopes of finding my phylactery dashed and being forced to defend laws that had been in place for a thousand years or more.

Nathaniel put a hand on my arm, holding me back, even though I could see him tensing out of the corner of my eye, preparing to attack at a moment's notice. He was right. If this ended in death they would need to deal the first blow. Killing templars out of hand would be a political nightmare for the order, and the First Warden himself would most likely show up to hang me if I started the fight.

"Hardly surprising," she said. "The Grey Wardens have ever been a haven for criminals and maleficar." She put a hand on her sword. _Come on, come on_, I thought, tensing. "I do not know how you inspire such loyalty, Anders, but it will avail you naught. Now you come with us." I almost forgot my burning urge to kill her for a moment. Who talks like that in this day and age? Her sword was out and Nathaniel released me to grab for his bow.

I shrieked as we flew into battle, ignoring my staff in favor of the sword. Alternating between striking with the weapon and casting spells, I managed to sweep one templar's footing out after I froze him, throwing my weight on the hilt of the blade to push it through the armor, piercing his chest after he fell. Using my foot to hold his body in place, I yanked the sword free, blood splattering across my face. Spinning to look for another target I saw Rylock was the only one standing. After a blast of lightning from Anders she, too, was down.

I gasped, waiting for my breathing to return to normal. After a moment Anders spoke. "I wonder if Namaya knew about this? I suppose it doesn't matter." I raised an eyebrow. If it were my friend I'd certainly think it mattered if they set me up to be ambushed or not. But then, I get the feeling whatever happened between she and Anders may have earned her some revenge.

"Thank you," he added. "You stood by me, and I appreciate that."

"You're a friend, Anders. Friends stick up for each other." Did he really expect me to hand him over?

"I guess they do," he replied, before suggesting we leave soon. I agreed, and we cleared out just as soon as everything of value was removed from the building. No phylacteries, of course, but once we saw the templars I doubt either of us expected them.

I found the head of the city guards after we left the warehouse. "Warden Commander," he stammered, casting a glance at our bloodstained appearance. I put on my best 'official business' voice and stood at attention.

"Ser, I'm afraid we were just ambushed by a group of rogue templars. They attempted to take one of my men to the Circle, in violation of both the Grey Warden right of conscription and His Highness King Alistair, who personally witnessed and authorized the conscription." _Oh, that sounds good!_ The guards eyes were wide, and he was nodding. "This man is a full Warden, not even a recruit!" I did my best to sound absolutely scandalized. "When I wouldn't give in to their illegal demands they attacked, we were forced to kill them in self defense. You'll find their bodies in the warehouse."

The guard paled. "Templars questioning the rights of the Grey Wardens? And in Amaranthine no less? That's madness!" I agreed and wished him a good night before we turned back to the inn.

"So, we just broke into a warehouse," Nathaniel said, as we walked to the inn. Oghren and Anders were ignoring us, busy insulting each other.

"Yes. Thank you for helping, by the way."

"You goaded a templar into a fight," he went on.

"She questioned one of the most sacred rights of our order, a right we need to survive, and stepped well beyond her authority. She also questioned the authority of the King, who happens to be my best friend. I had every reason to be angry."

"If you say so. But then, you reported it to a guard yourself? With a bard-worthy performance?"

"Oh, I'm not that good," I protested. "And of course I reported it! The bodies would be found; I don't want someone innocent being blamed. And if any other templars think they'll earn a promotion ignoring the law and taking us on without orders they'll think twice before they act."

Nathaniel paused for a moment. "That is, actually, fairly sound reasoning."

"This surprises you?" I said. Although, upon reflection I couldn't blame him for his initial impression. Our introduction did involve me conscripting someone who threatened my life, drunkenly setting my room on fire with another Warden, and waking up half the camp with my screaming the next night. The man probably thought he was being led around the arling by a madwoman. He had the decency not to reply.


	13. Had I known about the code

_2nd of 2 chapters I posted tonight. A wee bit of straight from game dialogue, but heavily tweaked. I love my reviewers!  
_

* * *

After my performance with the guard we returned to the inn. Since they only had two rooms available, and one had just a single bed, I decided to sleep in Kristoff's unused room. If he picked tonight to return after being missing for more than a week, well, I could just move over. I sadly suspected it wouldn't become an issue, though. How do you tell someone their spouse is dead? I sighed, briefly wishing I could go back to being just another Warden.

I had just climbed into bed when a knock came at my door. "It's Anders," a voice called from the other side before I could answer.

I sat up, covering my legs demurely with the blankets. "Come in." The door opened.

"Have a moment?"

"Of course," I nodded and he walked in, pulling up a chair near my bed. Ser Pounce-a-lot jumped from his arms to curl up near my feet.

"May I point out that you're all right?"

"I'm all right?"

"And remarkably lovely, if I might say so" he added. "And in your nightclothes, which is really quite adorable!" I couldn't resist smiling at that.

"Really, though. When the templars came for me you could have decided I wasn't worth the trouble, but apparently I am worth the trouble. Considering I'm usually a _lot_ of trouble I should be grateful."

"You're no more trouble than I am," I replied with a grin. This, although true, wasn't exactly a sterling endorsement for either of us.

"I'm starting to realize that. You do know you pushed the templars into fighting, don't you?" He gave me a conspiratorial wink.

"Did I?" I loaded my voice with false innocence. "What a shame…"

"Then, with the guards. 'Rogue templars.' Really?"

"Hey, everything I said was true. They were overstepping their authority. If I talked our way out of it they'd just come back, and maybe with more. The Grand Cleric didn't want Alistair recruited, but she couldn't do a thing about it, the Knight Commander didn't want me recruited but he couldn't stop it. Wardens are beyond the Chantry when it comes to that." I sighed. "Shame our phylacteries weren't there."

"It is a shame. Oh well, if you turn into Oghren every time a templar comes near us I think we'll be fine. Where did a mage even learn to use a sword?" I guess I did go a little overboard.

"It's an ancient elven technique, they were called arcane warriors. I can teach you if you want." Anders seemed to consider this. "I wrote to the First Warden to see if the order would take my phylactery back from the Chantry when I became Commander. He didn't reply." I sighed. It was rather disappointing to find out everything I had been told about the Wardens at Weisshaupt was true. They were so deep in their own politics no one had time for the rest of the order.

"Didn't reply? But you ended a blight!"

"I remember. He's sent me one note. It managed to be cynical, depressing, and scary all at once." He looked at me, waiting for more information. I remembered the letter, which arrived days before I left Denerim. "It said the hopes of the entire order rest on my shoulders, our mission is vital, and if I succeed we will be better positioned to end the next blight, and we all know there will be a next blight."

"Well no pressure there."

"Yep. I mess up, two hundred years from now some archdemon appears, and Wardens everywhere will say 'oh, if only Maggie Amell hadn't been such a lousy Commander!' No pressure at all."

"Hey, Amell is my last name, too!" I laughed. Amell was the last name they gave to every human mage, part of cutting our ties to family. You don't know their name, you can't seek them out. "For what little my opinion may be worth, I think you're doing a fine job. Other than the templars I think the whole of Amaranthine is in love with you. Even Nathaniel actually smiled today. I thought he didn't know how!"

"Good to know he won't be killing me in my sleep." Anders gestured for me to move over. Against my better judgment I did, and he sat next to me on the bed.

"Being a Warden isn't nearly as bad as I expected," he said casually. "It's like a stroll through the park. With darkspawn!"

"So glad I could make that happen for you, Anders," I replied dryly.

"You're a giver. I'm very grateful."

"Honestly, I am glad you're enjoying it. I figured you would quietly loathe me for several years before taking off in the night." This was entirely true, in fact.

"What a vote of confidence!" Anders laughed, though, clearly not offended. "I just wanted to thank you, Maggie. For everything."

"You don't have to thank me, Anders. You helped me clear the Keep of darkspawn and you didn't shove me off the battlements when you found out I'm a blood mage. You even healed my hand without a lecture on abominations and demons. After that how could I let them drag you off to be executed? Besides," I added after a moment, "you really are a brilliant healer, and an excellent mage. You deserve to be a Warden as much as anyone."

When I had been conscripted I was worried that I didn't honestly deserve my place. If Duncan hadn't been there I'm sure I would have been sent to the mage's prison, or executed. Helping a blood mage escape is a good deal worse than just sneaking out on your own. I spent much of the trip to Ostagar wondering if I was chosen out of pity, just to save me from the gallows. Duncan figured out what was on my mind, somehow, and reassured me just before we arrived that I deserved a place regardless. He also said that he himself was conscripted all but from the gallows years before. Even if the same thoughts hadn't occurred to Anders I wanted to make sure he knew that.

At some point while I was lost in thought Anders had put an arm around my shoulders. I hadn't noticed at first, but now that I did I wasn't exactly sure what to do. Yes, he was good looking. Yes, he was fun. Yes, we had a lot in common. And Maker's breath, he smelled so good. However, being sent into a templar-filled trap by someone who was very obviously a former lover wasn't exactly a glowing recommendation for being anything but friends with the man. Plus, no pawing the recruits. I briefly wondered what Alistair would do, but I realized he would be terrified of having a woman in his bedroom alone while he wore nothing but his nightclothes in the first place. I didn't even need to think about what Zevran would do.

"So have you remembered meeting me in the tower yet?" he asked suddenly. "We didn't actually speak, but we did meet."

"I've been trying to," I told him. The day after meeting I had scoured my memory, trying to recall every face from the tower and place his among them, without luck.

"I'm a little hurt. I thought we shared quite a moment. I've cherished it for many years, actually." He tried to pull me closer, so I was leaning against him, but I resisted, turning to look at his face instead.

"Wait, we didn't…? Did we?" I was now rapidly going through a smaller subset of male faces from the tower, heat rising in my face.

"Oh, now I'm really hurt. If that was the case I _know_ you would remember me." I allowed myself a small chuckle at that.

"Just tell me, then," I demanded. "I have been hit on the head a lot in the last few years. Maybe a cracked skull pushed the memory out of me."

He laughed and pulled me towards him again. _Maker, I'm a fool_, I thought as I rested my head on his shoulder, not resisting. _Why does he always complain about the cold? He's so warm, _I thought, before stomping the idea down in my mind. "Well, I had just returned from a vacation. My fifth, I believe, which would make it about four or five years ago." I was still an apprentice then, around twenty years old, but he would have been a mage at the time, closer to my age now. "I was walking down the hall, carrying a pile of books." This narrowed nothing down, no one went anywhere in the tower without a pile of books. "My hair was much shorter then, very short. I'd cut it when I escaped so they wouldn't recognize me as easily." _Andraste's ass_. I was starting to remember. The fashion among human men had been hair longer than the collar for many years in the tower, anyone with 'very' short hair stood out.

"Anyways," he went on. "You were scurrying past, trailing the Knight Commander who was lecturing you about inappropriate behavior of some kind behind the storage room. That," he added, "certainly caught my attention." _Oh no. _"So I was trying my damndest to get a look at you, you know, without _looking_ like I was trying to get a look at you. And I managed to drop one of my books." _Oh no oh no no no. _I remembered exactly. There was a code, among apprentices, at the time. Drop a book to indicate interest in someone when a templar was around and you couldn't speak to them.

"Well I felt like a _complete_ fool," Anders said. "You stopped right in your tracks, and I'm thinking you must believe I'm a total oaf." The other half of the code was, of course, pick up the book and return it with a wink, indicating 'sure, sounds fun.' Another of those keep it in the tower stories, for sure. "So you just stand there, _staring _at me," _because you're gorgeous, you ass? _I thought, but remained silent. "And you look at my robes like you couldn't imagine anyone so clumsy could pass the harrowing." _No_, I thought, _it was because I couldn't believe a harrowed mage would ever notice an apprentice like me. _"But you reach down and grab my book, returning it to me with the most beautiful _grin_ I'd ever seen. And you _winked_ at me. Winked! At me! Not even ten feet from the knight commander. I was walking on air the rest of the day," he finished dramatically. _Oh thank the maker, he doesn't know._ I relaxed, realizing I was safe. Well, safer, since I was still curled against him in my bed. But, he was on top of the blankets, and my hands were in my lap. So I wasn't pawing anyone, technically. _Commanding officer, _I reminded myself.

Suddenly Anders spoke up again. "You know, had I known about that whole code everyone was using at the time I would have ripped the entire tower apart brick by brick looking for you before the end of the day." _Damn damn damn damn damn!!!_

I'm pretty sure he heard me gasp then. He stood without saying another word, kissed me on the cheek, and left, breaking his silence only to smile and say goodnight before closing my door.

Hopefully he didn't hear me cursing into my pillow thirty seconds later.


	14. Doesn't that just figure

We made better time on our way back to the keep. Our first evening back Nathaniel cornered me after dinner as I was walking into my rooms. "Commander, I believe I owe you an apology. More than one, perhaps." I was half asleep, but it was obvious he wasn't enjoying saying whatever it was he came to say, so I tried to look alert.

"Nathaniel, you do not. Well, other than for refusing to call me Maggie."

He smiled a bit at that. "All right, Maggie. But I do owe you an apology. I planned to kill you, without checking the facts. I would have made a terrible mistake."

"Apology accepted, Nathaniel." He looked relieved. "Also, my comment about map reading was insensitive. I can understand now why you and Anders are…"

"Bitter?" I supplied, smiling.

"Thank you."

"Again, not a problem, Nathaniel. So, how do you like being a Warden so far?"

"It is… not what I expected."

I had to laugh at this. "I can imagine. Most Commanders have years of experience. They just tossed me into the job because I fought the archdemon. I only know how to make things up as I go along."

"I actually meant I was enjoying it more than I expected," he replied, smiling. That was a huge surprise. "I thought it would be a punishment. It really isn't." Nathaniel looked slightly anxious for a moment, and continued. "I certainly didn't expect to make friends. If- if I'm reading that correctly."

I grinned at him, relieved. "I would be glad to call you a friend." I felt bad for him, having his father destroy everything he knew, returning home to find his world gone. And I can imagine making friends as a noble would be difficult. Where I had people hate me for being a mage, he was most likely surrounded by people pretending to like him for being an Arl's son. Alistair had complained of that after he became King.

"So, can I ask you something?" I nodded, curious.

"You and Anders…?" He raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"Oh Maker, have you been talking to Oghren? He gossips like an Orlesian courtier." I blushed before going on. "Anders and I are friends. We have a similar background and, as you yourself have pointed out, agree on many topics." He had to chuckle at that.

He looked like the answer had created more questions. "What were you doing when you started a fire, then? I've been quite curious."

"Are you familiar with Tintreasch?"

"The drinking game? Of course."

"Well, in the tower we didn't drink, we hit each other with bolts of lightning instead." His eyes widened. "Very, very small bolts of lightning. But, Anders and I decided to invent a new form, which he called Warden Mage Rules"

"I'm almost afraid to ask…" Nathaniel replied, looking curious and not at all afraid.

"It included both," I supplied, realizing how incredibly foolish it sounded when I said it out loud.

Echoing my thoughts, Nathaniel replied slowly. "Neither of you found it… somewhat idiotic to get drunk and shoot lightning at each other while inside?"

"Well, it does _now_," I agreed. "Seemed like a good plan at the time, though. We didn't actually _talk_ about it, we came up with the idea at once and just started playing. I think if even one of us had bothered to speak the new rules out loud we would have seen the major flaw. It'll be a strictly outdoor game in the future."

"It does explain how you started a fire."

"Not exactly," I admitted. "That's just what we were doing when it started. Anders was complaining about the cold, so we sat by the fireplace."

Nathaniel jumped in before I could continue. "So he was cold and started a fire?!"

"Maker, no. He's not insane." Nathaniel looked at me doubtfully. "No more than any of us, at least. He was wrapped in a blanket; it just got too close to the hearth. We were both too drunk to notice. A silly mistake."

"I… see." I wasn't doing much to convince Nathaniel his commander was, in fact, a competent and reasonable adult. At least he looked more amused than annoyed as he said goodnight.

Varel cornered me as soon as breakfast was over, insisting I couldn't put the vassals off any longer. I wasn't really arlessa, I made sure of that before I left, but the title did fall to the current Commander of the Grey, which meant I had to act like I was. Eamon had done some bureaucratic magic to make sure I didn't hold a title in name, since the Chantry was spitting nails about the Wardens naming me Commander as it was. They didn't like a mage in charge of, well, anything. The nobles were expected to arrive by late afternoon.

Since I had to play Warden Commander for a few hours, and downplay being a mage, I opted to wear my armor. Anders bumped into me as I headed towards the main hall, Ser Pounce-a-lot nipping at his heels. "We're heading to Blackmarsh tomorrow, and maybe the woods on our way back, plan on being out for a week at least," I warned him. He didn't seem to hear me, staring at my armor instead. "I know, I know," I muttered. "I look absurd, but this is the only plate I've ever found that fits me properly, and I want to look the part when I deal with those sodding nobles, even if it is two hundred years old."

"Where did you even get that? I thought the custom stuff wasn't going to be done for another couple weeks."

"It belonged to the last Commander of the Grey before they were driven from Ferelden. She had been possessed by a demon. Killed the demon, kept her armor. Alistair said it looked good on me." Of course, he laughed for half an hour after saying that, struck by the absurdity of seeing a mage in armor at all. I didn't need to share that bit, though. Anders tapped a fingernail against my shoulder, smiling at the noise. "Go ahead, laugh. I know how awful I look. Get it out now before Bann whatever and Ser so and so show up."

He did laugh, but only a little. "Have I ever mentioned that I find women in armor incredibly attractive?" Anders asked, continuing down the hall without waiting for an answer. _Andraste, save me from this man, _I thought, catching myself watching him walk away. He waved over his shoulder. _Damn!_ I suppose it was less distracting than Zevran's constant lewd innuendos had been. Well, less distracting for the rest of the group, at any rate. As for me, I was far more distracted than I had any right to be.

The nobles arrived fashionably late. I had intended to greet them standing, the idea of lounging on a throne watching people bow before me just made me squeamish. But I was tired of standing around in the heavy plate and sat for a brief moment. As if on cue the guards opened the main doors. "Were they waiting for me to sit," I asked Varel. He shrugged as I jumped to my feet.

First, there was the bowing. Lots of bowing. Every person was introduced by name and area they controlled, I promptly forgot their names, and they bowed. I moved to bow back, but Varel grabbed my arm, keeping me upright. I guess that was part of the being in charge thing. I don't think many of them noticed my breech in protocol. I wasn't really sure I would have cared if they did.

Then, I had to meet with all of them, discuss why they hated me, what they wanted me to do, and promise to take their demands under advisement. Everyone wanted us to send them soldiers. Even the city asked for some. The city had walls! And its own guard force! What did they do all day if not protect people?

Finally, a woman whispered information of a conspiracy against me among some of Arl Howe's more ardent supporters. She promised paperwork with details in just a few days.

Varel cleared them out of the hall and we sat to discuss this conspiracy. "I can't say I'm surprised," I muttered. Turning to Nathaniel I asked, "do you remember who your father was most closely allied with?" He shook his head.

"I haven't even been in Ferelden for years. My father's allegiances were always changing rapidly." What a shock that was. Varel suggested a master spy who I could find in Amaranthine. It seemed as good an option as any. The 'Orleasian option' of taking a hostage just sounded like a pain. Plus, I didn't want us paying to feed them.

"What about the guards," he asked. "Where should we send them?"

Mistress Woolsey pushed me to protect trade routes above all else, but I ignored her. If the First Warden wanted us to just sit back and get rich he could come here himself. And find my damn phylactery while he's at it.

"The city has walls, and a guard force of their own," I began. "Why is the city guard unable to protect them?"

"I believe the issue is with numbers. Perhaps training as well. They are not our people, so we have little say."

"Blast. Send a couple men to the city, one or two, as a gesture of goodwill to help with getting them up to speed. Encourage the Bann to increase wages and push for recruitment. We need to protect lives above brick and mortar; the farmers have no one helping them."

He nodded and handed me a stack of letters before leaving. I headed to my room, eagerly looking forward to getting out of this armor. Examining the letters it seemed as though everyone in Amaranthine had written to me. Save my child, find my husband, save my farm, find a missing person, fine fine fine- that's what we do, that was something I could manage.

One caught my eye and I laughed. Save my smuggling business? Oh, who are they kidding? Into the trash that one went.

A note from Weisshaupt, confirming they had recorded the names of my first recruits, and informing me that initial reports had been favorable. It didn't specify if that was reports of me, the recruits, or the Ferelden Wardens in general. Just "the initial reports." For all I knew it was a report of the Amaranthine summer weather, or the current Orleasian footwear trends. Annoyingly vague, but I filed it away.

Finally the last letter, more battered than the rest. Familiar scratchy handwriting, all points and daggers, reading not "the Wardens," or "Warden Commander," but simply "Maggie Amell."

It had been posted from Antiva City.

"Oh you LOUSY son of a BITCH!" I screamed, without thinking. Where in the hell did he get off writing to me after all these months? What could he hope to say that would make me forgive sneaking off in the middle of the night? Did he expect me to be patiently waiting for his return; is that who he thought I was? Did he think I wouldn't have moved on?

Dropping the letter like it was on fire I punched the desk. There was a crunching noise. "Ow."

Three men appeared in my doorway. "What's wrong," Nathaniel said, looking nervous.

"Nothing, nothing, sorry," I brushed them off.

"Maggie, your _hand!" _Anders exclaimed, rushing forward. He healed me and, without asking permission, grabbed the letter from my desk. His face darkened when he saw where it had been sent from, tossing it back in front of me with more force than necessary. "I see."

Oghren stepped around Anders, trying to see the letter. "Well doesn't that just figure," he muttered. Oghren cast me a sympathetic glance before patting my arm. He dragged Nathaniel from the room with him.

Anders was staring at me scowling. "Aren't you going to open it," he finally asked.

"Why should I?"

He didn't say anything at first, looking disappointed and angry. This was not the reaction I had expected from him. Annoyance, curiosity, those would have made sense. But disappointment? Eventually he did reply. "You don't care? You're not curious?"

I tapped my fingertips on the desk, filled with nervous energy. "I'm curious, sure, but it's not real curiosity. It's like wanting to know the end of a story, or see the last act of a play." He looked at me, so I went on. "Nothing in that letter would change anything. It would just make me angry all over again." I paused and looked at my hand. "Well, more angry."

"But you lov-" I cut him off mid-word.

"No, I don't. I _did._ In the past. I may do a lot of stupid things, but I'd hope I'll never be one of those women who spends her life mooning over some ass that up and left her. That ship, as they say, has sailed." I picked up the letter, examining the paper briefly before holding it up. "Can you toss this in the fireplace for me?"

Anders met my eyes before he took the letter. I was curious, insanely curious, to read it. How could I not be? I knew this was for the best, though. I hadn't even thought of him since the night I told Anders about him over cards. That fact wasn't lost on me, either.

His fingertips lingered over mine when he took the letter from my hand, and seconds later it was gone forever.

Anders walked behind me, leaning over to warp his arms around my shoulders briefly. "I still say he was a fool."

Maker's breath, who am I kidding?


	15. Funny you bring that up now

_The bits from the Chant of Light are from The Calling. (which is quite good, and highly recommended.) As always, thanks so much for adding me to your notification and fave lists, and especially for the reviews!_

* * *

The plan was for us to go to Blackmarsh, rescue a hopefully still living Grey Warden, and return to the Keep triumphant. Sure, it was easily on my list of worst places I'd ever been to, and that list included Haven of all places, but I still held to that hope that something would work out as we planned even as we stumbled through waves of darkspawn and blight-infected werewolves. Because _normal_ werewolves aren't bad enough, apparently.

Nathaniel was familiar with the area, and everything he could share was disturbing, in more ways than one. "My father used to tell me stories about Blackmarsh, when I was a child. He said evil magic killed everyone here." Arl Howe couldn't even tell his kids a bedtime story without being creepy? I wish I could have been surprised by that.

What I didn't hope to do in Blackmarsh was discover new, never before seen forms of darkspawn, meet another of those chatty darkspawn bastards, and getting trapped in the fade where we fight several dozen demons. With a dwarf, no less. A dwarf who, upon realizing he was in the fade, proceeded to have a complete breakdown.

I'd always known dwarves couldn't be mages, of course. A lack of connection to the fade, a natural immunity to lyrium, there were tons of theories. I didn't realize dwarves didn't reach the fade even in dreams, though. But, they apparently sleep "like the stone," or so Oghren shouted after we were transported. I managed to calm him down while Anders worked on Nathaniel. He was also disturbed, but not nearly so much since he at least had the same minor connection to the fade all humans shared.

We were in Blackmarsh still, but a strange frozen version of it, twisted and lost in time. After repairing the tears in the Veil we came across a group of spirits. They had gathered around one of the virtuous fade spirits: this one representing Justice, apparently. Standing at the gates to the mansion they screamed at someone called the Baroness. Nathaniel urged me to volunteer our help towards his cause, but Anders was pushing for the opposing side. If the Baroness could do trap the entire town here, she could certainly set us free. But I had to be able to sleep at night, too: I offered to help the spirit. From what I remembered of my Fade studies he could send us back just as easily as the Baroness, with the benefit of not being evil.

"They just said she was an evil, powerful witch," Anders protested. "Do we _really_ want to antagonize her?"

"What are we, Chantry sisters?" I asked him. "I don't want to _antagonize_ her, I want to kill her! Look at what she's done! Justice will help us get out of here."

"All right, that could work. But if I die I'll be very angry with you."

The Baroness was less creepy than I had expected, and far more impressed with herself than anyone who isn't an archdemon deserves to be. She didn't even try to fight us herself; she just summoned a few demons and set the talking darkspawn on us. When he backed down from the fight she killed him herself, using his life force to send us all back to the real world.

"Ancestor's tits, I never want to go back there again," I heard before I could open my eyes.

I sat up, stretching. Even if the way we arrived and returned was strange, I felt like after any other visit to the fade. Nathaniel and Oghren were sitting, looking equally lost and relieved at the same time. Anders seemed unfazed. "Did you meet Valor during your harrowing? I wonder if Justice is related."

"I did. He challenged me to a duel for a staff and I talked him into just giving me one instead. Maybe they're brothers? I don't know if the spirits have siblings, though."

I laughed. "I did the same thing. 'You want to duel me? I'm an unarmed mage half your size, not a warrior! If I could survive a duel with you I wouldn't be asking for your help in the first place.' I think he felt guilty after that."

I climbed to my feet, confirmed all four of us were still alive, and realized our numbers had increased by one.

"Kristoff?"

I was right the first time, of course. Kristoff was very, very dead. This fact didn't prevent him from standing up and speaking, though.

So, we now had an ethereal Fade embodiment of a virtue unhappily trapped in the body of a dead Grey Warden on the team. Huzzah?

* * *

Justice didn't say much on the walk from Blackmarsh once he got over his initial shock and accepted my offer to join us. By defeating the darkspawn he believed he would earn vengeance for the slain Warden. I didn't have the heart to explain that "defeating the darkspawn" hadn't happened in the last thousand years, and was unlikely to happen at any point in our lifetimes. At best, Wardens kept them at bay. He watched everything, drinking in scenery like it was water. He had proven to be a remarkable warrior in our fight with the Baroness, so I knew he would come in handy. I guess I would just need to make sure we got him a full coverage helmet when we visited the city.

I had insisted on packing up Kristoff's camp before we left. I didn't know if Justice would actually require sleep, but having a tent for him just in case seemed handy. We managed to take care of some of the small errands people had asked of me on our way to a crevasse where darkspawn had been spotted.

"Maker's breath, it's hot out," I whined as we crossed a wooden bridge, several days out of Blackmarsh and only a couple hours from the area where darkspawn were seen by the hunters. "Are you certain we're still in Ferelden, Nathainel?"

"This is normal for an Amaranthine summer," he assured me before raising a hand to stop us. Gesturing for silence Nathaniel pointed out several shadows behind rocks on the opposite side of the bridge. Bandits would already be tearing towards us. The shadows remained persistently still, but clearly not naturally occurring. I readied my staff and we walked forward slowly.

The attack occurred just as we stepped off the bridge, as I expected. We were outnumbered, but only by a few. Not bandits, they were well armed and clearly trained: all rogues. Not a warrior or mage among them.

"Search the bodies," I said after they were down and Anders had finished healing everyone. "Any clue."

I couldn't find anything but plain weapons and bottles of poison. I saw Anders carry something over to Oghren, though, and went to join them.

"Aye," he muttered. "Sodding nug-humpers."

"What?" Anders held something behind his back, but didn't answer. "Anders, what did you find?"

"You won't like this, Mags," Oghren said.

"I don't like being ambushed, either. Show me." He handed me a dragonbone dagger, directing my attention to the heraldry on the pommel, black wings on red, stylized to resemble eyes. "Andraste's ass, you've got to be kidding me."

"This is going to be bad, right?" Nathaniel walked over, followed by Justice.

I held up the dagger. "Someone's hired the Crows to come after us."

He survived the bodies around us scoffing. "I thought they were supposed to be legendary assassins." Nathaniel seemed both unimpressed and unconcerned. That was better than being nervous, I suppose.

I shrugged. "I guess I always get their B team. Ugh, maybe I should have read that letter," I groaned. "It might have been a warning of some kind."

"Or this is his version of a second letter," Anders theorized.

"I find that highly unlikely, Anders." Zevran was a lot of things, but he would never actually send the Crows on me out of spite. Would he?

"Right. Because by all other accounts he was a pillar of society." I had to admit, Anders made a point. I could always dismiss Zevran's less savory qualities because of his unflappable loyalty to me. Loyalty that wasn't quite as complete as I had imagined, if sneaking off with just a few hasty words on parchment were taken into account. Still, he had never met the man, and I didn't like him assigning Zevran blame because of… what? Some kind of jealousy?

"Says the man who was knee deep in dead templars when we met."

"Funny you bring that up now when you never cared about it before. As though we both don't know you wouldn't do the exact same thing in a heartbeat, Maggie." I had to admit, he made a good point there. It had mattered so little that I'd never even pressed to find out if he really had killed them. Why did I bring that up? Even if this attack wasn't because of, or related to, Zevran I didn't have any reason to _defend_ him.

"I wondered who in Antiva would write you," Nathaniel interrupted, halting our argument. "Can't you read it when we get back to the keep? It may still help." Justice stood on silently. What a fantastic introduction to humanity we would be.

"Not exactly." I blushed. "I got rid of it."

"You tossed a letter away without even opening it?"

"Right into the fireplace. Yes," I answered. His pale eyes went wide with surprise. "I had a… friend who was with the Crows," The explanation was absurdly transparent, but if we were being stalked by assassins I couldn't play coy, and I suspect my squabble with Anders had filled in more than a few of the blanks already. "We didn't part on the best of terms, I assumed the letter was regarding our former relationship. Since I had no interest in reading whatever he had to say I asked Anders to throw it in the fire for me."

"How _very_ symbolic," he teased. That thought hadn't even occurred to me at the time, but it did seem fitting in an obvious Orleasan ballad sort of way. "I didn't think either of you were interested in that level of dramatic subtlety." Nathaniel was smirking a little bit, eyeing both of us in turn. Anders grinned at him.

"I'm just going to start walking this way, towards the darkspawn. You know: the things we kill for a living. When everyone is done gossiping about my romantic history you can catch up to me." Fortunately the subject was dropped, and we made it to the tunnel in the closest thing to silence this group ever managed. That would involve Anders and Oghren teasing each other, and now Nathaniel peppering Justice with questions.

"Oh no! Don't take me back to the tower! I'm far, far too delicate!"

"Will you ever need to switch bodies, Justice?"

"I thought you were being attacked by a wild animal. But it was only your beard."

"Do you do anything besides ponder what is just and unjust?"

Maker, they went on and on. Meet the fabled Grey Wardens, look on in awe as we make off color jokes and discuss possession in far too great of detail. Not that I was any better, I knew that much. If I was going to be Commander of a fighting force, at least it was this band of lunatics. Alistair would be proud. At any rate, it was an improvement over the discussion of my former lovers. I managed to tune them out, walking lead since I could still sense the darkspawn easier than the rest of the group.

Leading us into a tunnel we were confronted by darkspawn dragging off a screaming dwarven woman.

"Maker's breath," I shouted. "Don't let them take her!" Fortunately we were in time, and the woman gasped her thanks to us as she regained her composure. I dropped to one knee so we were on eye level. "Are you all right?" The expression on my face must have explained enough to her. She nodded.

"You were just in time."

Nathaniel and Anders could tell they were missing the subtext to our brief conversation. Oghren pulled the new Wardens aside and explained why no one ever saw female darkspawn. He had been with us in the deep roads, when we killed one of the broodmothers: women so corrupted by the taint that they mutate, becoming nothing more than enormous darkspawn factories of flesh. I should have explained it to them. During the Blight we had a long-standing rule: no women taken alive. Thank the Maker, it had never come up, but I wanted to make sure I would never be turned into one of those… things. That was pretty high on my 'worse than being dead' list.

"Legion of the Dead?" I asked her, noticing the insignia on her armor. She nodded and introduced herself as Sigrun. She told us the entire Legion was lost, the darkspawn had laid a trap for them in an abandoned city. Whatever was going on wasn't isolated, though. The attack on the Keep, the ambusish in Blackmarsh, now this- they were strategizing, and without an archdemon to guide them. The darkspawn shouldn't be able to think on their own, and yet…

"We'll help you," I said.

Her jaw dropped. "You didn't hear the part about it being crawling with darkspawn?"

I shrugged. "Grey Wardens."

"My condolences, then."

I don't know if there is a Veil in the Deep Roads. Sigrun said dwarves believe spirits of the dead return to the stone. If that was the case, perhaps there was so much death in Kal'Hirol that the stone simply couldn't accept any more. Ghostly images walked the halls, forever reenacting their last terrified battles as the city fell to the darkspawn. I stopped to watch each of these scenes, we all did. It seemed fitting that finally, someone would remember them.

Moving through the dead city we encountered occasional groups of darkspawn, but the primary residents seemed to be these faded memories. I found a man, human of all things, in a cage suspended over lava. His voice was tinged with hysteria as he told us he snuck in, treasure hunting. Sigrun and Oghren were both enraged at the thought of stealing from the dwarves. He tried to offer me the treasure in exchange for his freedom. Dark patches were starting to spread above his collar, and across his hands. I opened the cage and slit his throat quickly.

"Maggie!" Nathaniel gasped.

"He was already dead," I told him. "It was a mercy." I pulled up the man's sleeve, displaying the corruption. I was telling the truth, of course, but it didn't make me feel any better.

"Is there no cure?"

"Not one I know of, no. I guess, in the earliest stages, one can undergo the Joining and survive. But he wasn't in the early stages. I could sense the corruption rolling off him."

We went on, fighting golems and darkspawn. Another of the speaking variety was there, from Sigrun's gasp I'd guess she hadn't encountered any before. She barely paused, though, before launching herself at him with both blades.

Anders managed to stumble on a bucket full of pure refined lyrium in the remains of an old workshop. I stared, eyes wide. It was enough to keep us both in lyrium potions for the rest of our lives, and several other mages besides. After confirming we wouldn't be causing an international incident he and I set about filling every empty bottle we had, as well as all of Nathaniel's. Once I emptied a good chunk of our medicinal salves we managed get all of it. "Just think," he said, throwing a conspiratorial arm across my shoulder as we walked, "the Chantry controls the lyrium trade-"

"And now we won't have to go to them for it ever again!" I finished, laughing.

We moved on, entering a room with fleshy growths on the floors and walls. My stomach sank as tentacles began to burst from the ground around us. Dodging them, we entered the main room. Three broodmothers sat below us, in a pit. I doubled over, worried for a moment I would be sick, but the feeling passed. Climbing back to my feet I looked down again and was reminded of a Chant verse Leliana was particularly fond of repeating just before our worst battles. "_Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder_."

To my surprise, Anders provided the next stanza. "_Though all before me is shadow, Yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost._" He looked over at me, and then gestured to chains holding up a large elaborate light fixture. "Shall we put them out of their misery?"


	16. It smelled like him

I was still feeling ill by the time we made camp, but the more distance we placed between ourselves and the deep roads the easier it seemed for me to force the image of the broodmothers out of my mind. I could only be supremely grateful we didn't have to fight them from close quarters. "I never expected you to be particularly religious, Maggie," Nathaniel said over dinner. "Well, either of you, for that matter."

"I can only speak for myself, Anders and I aren't exactly a mage group mind."

"We're not? I'm hurt," Anders piped up from across the fire where he had been quizzing Sigrun on the legion of the dead. She was, at the same time, trying to explain to Justice that it was a symbolic death, not literal. Oghren had been hitting on her until he passed out.

I just ignored him for now. "As for me, I believe in the Maker and I follow Andraste's teachings." I shrugged. "I don't agree with the Chantry on, well, a lot of things. I don't think they follow the Chant as they should. They add to it, they create rules that never existed."

"Like the ones for mages."

"Among other things," I replied. "But yeah, that would be a particular sticking point for me. Andraste never said to take children from their homes and imprison them for life, just for being born as they are."

"It's just surprising, given that you're a-"

"Blood mage? The Chantry would think so, but the Chant itself never mentions any specific kinds of magic. It says malificar are those who use the gift of magic against the Maker's children." I grabbed more of the stew he had prepared for dinner; both Anders and Nathaniel had proven themselves surprisingly competent cooks, to my relief. It saved us from my cooking, which was serviceable but could only be called good when compared to Alistair's. Returning to my seat, I went on, "I think even being a blood mage I can still be good, and that someone using only the most appropriate Circle magic to murder innocents would be a malificar in Andraste's eyes."

"Can't you use it to control minds, though?"

"In theory I could. I don't know how, I never learned the spells. Couldn't you use violence to control people's actions?"

"I wouldn't do that, though."

"Well, neither would I."

"I think you're over-simplifying things. It isn't the same."

"No? Most mages couldn't threaten with physical force, we're not strong enough. It's not _exact_, but I think it is close enough for comparison." I could tell he still didn't quite agree with me, but he was thinking about what I had said. I hoped my actions over the last month would be enough to demonstrate to him I wasn't about to become a screaming rage abomination, but I suppose the prejudices against mages were hard set.

"Nathaniel, haven't you noticed I'm not exactly _comfortable_ with having power? Why would I seek out _more_ of it? I wasn't raised a noble, I don't know how to handle this. I grew up being taught I was cursed, despised by even blessed Andraste, a danger to the whole world. Not to be some military commander and politician. I just want to be Maggie the Grey Warden again; I hate being isolated by all this."

"Perhaps you should stop isolating yourself, then. Everyone knows you were in charge during the blight, and that worked out for you. Remember the title when you have to play the noble's games, and forget it the rest of the time. I doubt Weisshaupt intended it as a punishment."

"I don't think any of us could begin to untangle Weisshaupt's motivations. From what I know they all but run the nation, and would be thrilled if we did the same thing in Ferelden."

"Don't we, in a way? I mean, the King is…?" he shrugged.

"Alistair is only a Warden in the most technical sense. He puts our concerns first when they coincide with the rest of the nation, and that's how it should be. Ferelden needs Wardens, just like everyone does, so right now we have a lot of royal support. Part of giving us the Arling was so, in the future when our numbers are where they should be, we can support ourselves without the Crown paying tithes."

"What should our numbers be?"

"I have _no_ idea," I laughed. "I figure I'll just keep recruiting until we run out of space."

"I suppose I should be thankful I got in before you resorted to sticking people in the barracks," he replied, joining me in laughter.

"Hey, being one of the senior Wardens in Ferelden should have _some_ perks. We may not have horses, but at least we have private rooms!"

"Private rooms?" Sigrun spoke up, astonished. I noticed the tattoos on her face, which had been hidden by her helmet before. She was clearly casteless- no doubt she'd never had her own bedroom. I nodded to her.

"I think you'll be across the hall from me? Not sure. We'll get you set up once we're home, though." I had decided we would swing by the city on the way back. Sigrun lost almost all her possessions when the darkspawn took out the legion. We had to get her a tent and bedroll, and whatever else rogues needed. Poisons and lockpicks? I had no idea, I'd just give her some gold and let her get what she needed. I offered her my tent until then. Even if she was dealing with the open sky better than Oghren had, she would need the roof overhead more than me if she wanted any rest. It wasn't the first time I had slept outside.

Part of me thought putting her through the joining first would be a wise idea, but I wanted to assume she would make it through. What was a little darkspawn blood to the last surviving member of the Legion of the Dead, after all?

Everyone drifted to their tents, leaving me by the fire. With the new additions to our party we had juggled the schedule- now I was on first watch once more. My favorite- staying up late beat getting up early any day of the week.

"You're actually sleeping outside?" Anders settled next to me. I had left the scheduling of watches to Nathaniel, he seemed to enjoy remembering which shift everyone preferred and pairing up people who would get along. I couldn't be surprised at who he decided would keep watch with me.

"That's my plan. I did for a month straight after I became a Warden, and I had a tent then. I just liked being under the stars. Besides," I added, "Sigrun will be more comfortable with even just canvas overhead. She's never been to the surface before now."

"So you just collect people everywhere you go, then?"

"You sound like Alistair. I'll remind you that method ended a blight!" I laughed, though. "Before I left Denerim he asked me if every Warden in Ferelden would be an apostate, a crazy person, or a crazy apostate. I guess he was right to be concerned." He laughed, and we fell into silence for a while, watching the fire burn down.

Anders' face took on a more serious expression. "So, you know how I told you I didn't kill those templars when we met?" I nodded. "That may not have been the… complete truth."

"You don't say," I replied dryly.

"Well, it wasn't my plan. One of them charged into my line of fire against the darkspawn, that was an accident. Really," he stressed. "But I suppose I should have remembered to shout 'hey, fire can burn templars, too' before he did, you know most of them aren't very bright. The others turned on me after that."

"Honestly, Anders, I don't really care if you killed them. You were right; I would have done the same thing. I don't know why I even brought it up."

"Because I was being an ass," he offered. "I don't have any right to question your past. I'm not even… well, we're not…" He shrugged, blushing. Well, at least he was aware of that. Shame the rest of our group assumed otherwise. "I suppose he wasn't all bad if you were with him for so long."

"You did make a good point, though," I admitted. "But I highly doubt it would be him." I fed more wood into the fire, shivering slightly as the temperature dropped. "I'll just find that Dark Wolf person when we're in the city, hopefully finding out which nobles hate me will end this."

Anders disappeared to his tent, returning a moment later with a blanket and Ser Pounce-a-lot. He wrapped the wool around my shoulders before sitting back down, holding the kitten in his lap. "You're going to freeze out here tonight."

"Oh, I suppose you have a suggestion?" Maker, was I doing that again? _Shut up, Maggie_.

"I can think of several. If I mentioned any of them you'd just freeze in place and blush, though." I guess he had noticed, then. Well, how could he not? I was well aware of the hopelessness of this losing battle by now, but I kept up the charade.

"So," I said, hoping to change the subject. "You told me I could ask all about you, and I haven't had a chance yet."

"I did? When did I say that?"

"At some point between our creating the most dangerous card game in Thedas and almost burning the Keep down, I believe."

"How depressing, you remember things I say when drinking. Fine, ask away."

I laughed. "So, your birthday is soon?"

"In three days. You remembered?" I nodded. "How sweet of you!" he chuckled. "You know, we should just invent a birthday for you. Everyone needs one. Just pick a day, I'll never tell."

"14 Kingsway," I replied.

"Did you pick that because it's only two months away?"

I shook my head. "That's the day I became a Warden, seemed as good as anything." He nodded. "Another question, then: Namaya."

"That's a name, not a question." He grinned. "I thought you sounded jealous!"

I made a face. "I mean _what_ did you do to make her so angry she sent you into a templar trap?"

"Nothing, I swear it!" I looked at him, raising my eyebrow in disbelief. "I don't think she even knew it was a trap, anyways. That's not her style."

"Anders, she took the time to _warn_ me about you. You did something!"

He groaned. "I was worried you remembered that. All right, I might have stood her up- but I got captured, I couldn't help that."

"And?" I said, knowing there had to be more.

"Maker's breath," he muttered. "Well, we were staying at an inn. She went to bed, I kept drinking. I might have ended up in the wrong room. With her sister."

"Anders!" I gasped.

"It was dark! I didn't know! They sounded an awful lot alike. Her sister knew I was in the wrong room by mistake. She could have said something, you know, instead of playing along!"

"You had _no idea_ you climbed into bed with the wrong sister?"

"No! Well, not at first. I mean, obviously I figured it out eventually, but by that point I was already in trouble, so I thought, why bother stopping, I'm getting screamed at tomorrow either way." He shook his head, the fire throwing shadows across his cheekbones. "I think I would have stopped, though, if I'd known how loud her sister was planning on shouting my name. Having Namaya catch me halfway through was much worse than being yelled at the next day."

I now knew he wasn't the type to _intentionally_ sleep with someone's sister, which was slightly better than what I had feared. Not quite as good as if he was the type to never sleep with someone's sister, though. Not that I have a sister. Well, one that I know of. And, he had somehow managed to include within the story the information that he made women scream his name out loud enough to be heard from next door. That wasn't going to make my life any easier, and I'm pretty sure that's _exactly_ why he made sure to say it. It wasn't nearly as bad as I had feared, though. I was expecting something overtly malicious, not dumb luck and poor judgment.

When I didn't reply Anders spoke up. "Are you horrified? Scandalized?"

I laughed. "Actually, I was expecting something a lot worse. I suppose I can't judge, I spent more than a year sharing my bed with a man I met while he was trying to kill me."

"Is that an interest of yours? Should I warn Nathaniel?"

"Maker's breath, no!" I laughed. "One assassin was enough for me, thanks. Besides, Nathaniel isn't exactly my type." He seemed to consider this for a moment, but any further questions were cut short by Justice climbing from his own tent.

"I believe it is my watch?" Maker, how did he do that? I never get up on time in the middle of the night unless someone shakes me. He had readily volunteered for the dreaded second shift, claiming he enjoyed, but didn't actually _require_ sleep. After we exchanged greetings and Justice settled by the fire, Anders scooted off to his own tent and I fell to my bedroll near the fire.

Before I went to sleep Justice asked me about the stars: he was enraptured by them. That was something I could easily understand. I'd seen them through windows for most of my life, but that was nothing compared to actually sitting beneath them. It was the reason I slept outside for so long after becoming a Warden. We spoke for a while before he reminded me I would need rest to function tomorrow. I had to agree with that. We were still encountering small bands of darkspawn several times a day.

Curling up in the blanket Anders had given me, I began to drift off. My last coherent thought was that it smelled like him.


	17. Are you going to take that from him?

_I finally decided where I'll go with this as far as the post-game happenings_, _so I may speed it up a bit just to get there sooner. Plus, I hate writing combat scenes. ;) We all know the combat, it's what happens between the fighting that makes me curious! I'm finally on spring break, so I may post more than usual, if you can imagine that!_

_Long chapter, but I knew **exactly **where I wanted it to end, and there wasn't enough for two short chapters.  
_

_As always, love to my reviewers and people who fave me!  
_

* * *

When we finally reached Amaranthine I gave Sigrun two sovereigns and sent her to buy what she needed. Nathaniel went with her, explaining he knew where they could find everything she would need. Her eyes nearly fell out seeing that much money at once. I could understand exactly how she felt.

While they were shopping I wandered up to the chantry, Oghren, Justice and Anders in tow, to see if the board had anything good. Justice was attracting a few looks, but most turned away when they saw the griffin on his shield. Hopefully they would assume his appearance was the result of an injury at the hands of darkspawn. Not that most people would jump to the "reanimated corpse" explanation first thing.

"Wynne?" I call, seeing a familiar grey-haired figure near the door of Chantry of our Lady Redeemer.

"Margaret," came the reply. Wynne always used my full name. Why she didn't stop to visit, or ask to stay with me instead of at the Chantry, I wondered. Not that I should be surprised. We worked together on the blight, but were never what I could call close. She offered me advice on everything from duty to my love life, most of it unwanted. I often wondered if she would have objected so strenuously had I taken up with Alistair instead of Zevran, not that either of us ever considered such a thing. I think, if I had, she would have yelled at me for corrupting the Chantry boy instead of asking why I would debase myself and my order with a lecherous assassin. I suspect, though, that the primary reason was she had never completely forgiven me for cheating in her class.

"What brings you to Amaranthine?"

"Yeah, woman, why didn't you come see old Oghren first thing? I'd think you would be craving the taste of my special homebrew again after all this time." the dwarf boomed. I fought the urge to giggle at Wynne's blush. Anders seemed shocked speechless at this, glancing from the aloof mage to the boisterous dwarf. Maybe later I'd explain his special homebrew was quite literally just that: admittedly one of the finest ales I'd ever had. Maybe.

"I was going to visit you at Vigil's Keep, but things got busy. The College of Magi is convening." I waited for her to continue. That could be either good or bad, but it certainly wasn't normal. The college encompassed every senior mage in all of Thedas, they usually went decades without a meeting. The Chantry hated having that much power gathered in a single place. Wynne was hesitant to give me more information, but I pressed her. Anything that impacted the Circle could, indirectly, impact me, and the Wardens, after all.

Fraternity issues, it seemed. Mages, even as trapped as we were, insisted on forever subdividing ourselves. I was as guilty as the rest of them, though. I'd all but stopped talking to an apprentice from my entropy class when I found out she was a staunch Loyalist, happily living under the Chantry yoke. Each fraternity was centered on what we would want to do, if we could do anything involving leaving the tower. I was a Libertarian, personally- the fraternity that favored separating from the Chantry. I could see wisdom in the Isolationist viewpoint, though. Some people would always fear mages, I suspect if I didn't have a purpose that required being around people I'd sneak off to a farm or island in the middle of nowhere, too. "The Libertarians wish to pull away entirely from the Chantry," Wynne began, her voice ominous. "And if they get enough support…"

"About time!" I exclaimed. "Wynne, you know I've always been on the side of the Libertarians."

"That's madness!" Anders said just as forcefully. "I hate Chantry oversight as much as the next mage. Well, more. But they can't just pull away entirely. This is a recipe for disaster!"

"I still think it's about time mages freed ourselves," I said. "And King Alistair will support the decision."

"You have seen oppression and are now free," Justice added. "You must act to free those who remain oppressed. I believe you have a responsibility to your fellow mages." Wynne glanced at him and recoiled slightly. I hastily introduced them. She, of all people, would understand the good spirits of the Fade. I had to admit, it was rather comforting that the personification of Justice itself agreed with me.

"How do you think the Chantry would react, Maggie?" Anders made a point, unfortunately. If the mages decided this among themselves the Chantry would all but call an Exalted March on the Circle. And if Alistair lost the Chantry support his reign would find itself in a much more difficult position. I had to grudgingly agree with him. Unfortunately, the Chantry would never relinquish power willingly, either.

Wynne hinted that a mage doing research in the woods would be a valuable asset to the meeting. I agreed to find her since we would be heading that way soon enough. She wandered off and I spared a brief glance at the Chanter's board. "Well, this is disturbing," I muttered.

"What is?" Anders crowded next to me, reading over my shoulder.

"Templars are looking for help- they want someone experienced in dealing with powerful mages." I pulled the quest from the board.

"Wait, you're going to help them?"

I gesture for him to follow me, until we were beyond the Chanter's hearing. "Have we met? Of course I'm not helping them! Maker's breath…" I shoved the paper in my pack. "Anders, they're probably looking for _us_, with my luck. We did kill three templars the last time we were in town." I paused, briefly. "Not to mention the ones you took out last month. We'll need to be careful or the Chantry may come out against the Wardens at this rate. I'm just taking it so no one else does. Until they realize it's gone, at least." He looked relived at this, not that I could blame him.

Justice expressed an interest in seeing Kristoff's old room at the inn, so Anders volunteered to take him while I met with the spy. They were deep in a conversation about if Anders and I had an obligation to 'strike a blow at our oppressors,' as Justice put it. Anders came down on the side of not wanting to be killed by the Chantry. I thought that, while Justice did have a point, I couldn't put the Wardens at risk to do much about it. We were still riding high on post-blight good will, but people would forget. In a few years they would wonder why we still existed, forgetting that the blights would always return. I suspected pitting the Chantry directly against us as well would make the Commander Dryden's uprising and the 200 year banishment look like child's play.

I found the spy easily enough. It took handing over almost half of our current treasury to find out why assassins were stalking us. He promised answers the next day, which also meant paying for rooms at the inn. Hopefully this would be worth it.

On our way to the inn my eye was caught by something at a merchant's stall. I dipped into my own private funds for the purchase. I wanted to kick myself while I was buying it, but grinned the whole time.

"Maggie," Oghren said.

"Oghren."

"Why did you just shell out fifty silvers for a scarf and men's bracers?"

_Because I'm an idiot? _I thought."It's not for me."

"I'd figured that out, woman!"

"It's for Anders- tomorrow is his birthday."

"Figures," Oghren said, looking at me. "Sodding Ancestors Mags, will you just give the man a roll already!" I sputtered. I'm getting relationship advice from the man whose wife left him to hunt down a magic anvil, while also managing to take a female lover and go completely insane? Has my life been reduced to that?

"What?!"

"You heard me. This ain't the sodding army, no one cares about rank." He paused, scratching his beard. "Besides, it's not like we have to worry about you and skirt-boy filling the Keep with the pitter-pat of little mage baby feet." He shuddered at the thought. I almost did, too, at that. I could just see myself charging into battle against the darkspawn, heavy with child, toppling over belly first from the loss of balance. Now that would get their attention!

I was just placing my items in my pack when Nathaniel and Sigrun bounded over. He looked… cheerful? I guess the dwarf was a good influence on him. I wondered if he would get a sore neck from the way he kept sneaking glances down at her and jerking his head back up before he thought anyone could notice. She _was_ disturbingly perky for someone who jumped from one order that swore to die by violence at the hands of darkspawn to another with basically the same code. Particularly since it took a bit of persuasion since our order didn't require that death be as soon as possible.

"Got everything?"

"And then some!" she announced, before handing me a fistful of silvers as change.

"I had to convince her we could spare the money," Nathaniel said. "She wanted to try stealing everything." Nathaniel looked almost proud.

"Oh Maker, don't do that. We're supposed to be in charge here. Stealing would _not_ help our reputation. And where else would we shop?"

She giggled. "Old habits die hard. What did you get?"

"Birthday present for skirt-boy," Oghren replied.

"Told you there was something going on," Sigrun said to Nathaniel while I felt my face heat up. I reminded myself that rogues thrived on gossip as much as they did on lockpicks. It didn't help.

* * *

The Dark Wolf was as good as his word. We didn't have a name, but we had an address. Nathaniel promised it would be on our way home, maybe even reachable by nightfall, so we headed out.

"Grey Wardens do a lot of walking," Sigrun commented.

"I wanted horses but they told me it was too expensive." I sighed. At least I was now walking back and forth across a very small section of Ferelden, an improvement over the times I had to walk the whole of Ferelden.

I could see the house in the distance. There were horses tied outside. _Lucky noble bastards_, I thought, glancing at my worn boots. An idea occurred to me. "Hey, when we're killing these people, let's try to not hurt the horses." Nathaniel laughed, of all things.

Unsurprisingly, none of these nobles seemed to know 'the pommel of a dagger from the pointy end,' as Zevran would have said. For as much of an annoyance as this conspiracy was proving, defeating it seemed shockingly easy. "Would it be morbid to just stay in the house tonight instead of camping," I mused as we rifled through their pockets. I was up almost twenty sovereigns, and a few incriminating bits of paper pointing us at the source of the conspiracy. The next meeting with the nobles would be interesting.

"Morbid? I'd say it would be appropriate," Anders laughed. That was how we ended up camped out in the living room, wrapped in blankets on the floor by the fire while the kitten climbed across our laps, darting from one of us to the other. Everyone else had gone to sleep already, claiming the bedrooms. Since this ethically questionable campsite was my idea, and he agreed, somehow they decided we got the living room floor. So much for being commanding officer. The idea that it was some kind of joke on the part of the others to get us in the same room didn't skip my mind, either. _As though anything would happen on a floor with everyone ten feet away¸_ I had thought as we laid out our bedrolls.

"Killing nobles on your birthday," I said. "Hope you enjoyed it."

Anders laughed at that. "How did you know it was just what I wanted?"

"Sorry it couldn't be templars, that's tough to arrange on short notice." At this we both roared with laughter, until a pounding on the wall bought us back to reality.

"Sodding nug-humpers, will you shut up?"

I had calmed down, until Anders leaned over and whispered "What in Thedas is a _nug_? Is it dirty? It sounds dirty!" I grabbed a pillow to muffle my laughter, tears welling in my eyes. We had been up for hours talking and gossiping, and were both just tired enough for everything to sound funny.

When I could finally breathe again I spoke slowly, so I wouldn't start giggling more. "A nug is something they eat in Orzammar. A friend of mine described them as 'subterranean bunny-pigs.' They're actually pretty good." I smoothed down my skirt over my knees. It had managed to work its way up my legs while I was doubled over cackling. I was still in my robes, changing into a nightshirt seemed indecent given the close accommodations. Anders had either thought the same or followed my lead. Although, for all I knew, he slept in his robes on a regular basis.

"Huh." Anders thought about it for a moment. "I can see how that would work as an insult, then." He yawned. "I've never been to Orzammar."

"It's interesting. Very pretty, in a harsh way. The caste system is brutal. Once things are settled here I'll have to go there to find some recruits. King Behlin likes us, I bet he'll put on a tournament and offer rooms in the palace."

"You know the king of Orzammar?"

I laughed. "Who do you think got him the throne? You can come with me when I go, if you want. A lot of the dwarves are fascinated by mages, a couple mage Wardens would certainly get some attention." Anders' face brightened at this prospect. I leaned over and dug through my pack, the mention of Orzammar reminding me of my shopping trip with Oghren. "Turn your head," I told him. After a moment he did. "All right," I said, and he spun back to face me as I shoved the bracers towards him, wrapped in the scarf.

He took the bundle and looked at me strangely.

"I'm sorry, I know it should be wrapped, and in a box. Alistair explained that to me. The store didn't have any boxes, though." He was still looking at me. I'd forgotten something. Trying to remember the party we had for Leliana it hit me. "Happy birthday!" _Maker, why is he still looking at me like that? What did I do wrong? _"Anders? Aren't you going to look?" If he didn't say something soon I worried I'd start babbling. I wondered if I should have given it to him over dinner, with everyone else around. The idea had occurred to me, but I didn't want to make anyone else feel bad for not having a gift. _You are a dirty, dirty liar Maggie_, I thought even as I justified it to myself.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, shaking his head. "It's been almost twenty years since someone remembered my birthday. You caught me by surprise."

"About time," I replied, curling up on my bedroll to watch him examine the gift.

"Well done," he agreed. I watched him unravel the scarf, examining it for a moment before realizing what it was. He grinned and put it on before moving to look at the bracers. "Maker's breath," Anders muttered, tracing the engraved eagles with a fingertip. "For me?" I nodded. My eyes were painfully heavy, but I fought to stay awake a little while longer. "I don't know what to say," he finished. "Thank you."

"You? Speechless? The rarity of that is thanks enough!" I had to grin. If I wasn't so tired I might have added a little cheer as well. He cast me a glance before climbing into his own bedroll. It was much closer to mine than I'd remembered it being.

He smiled, finally, and reached for my hand. "Thank you," Anders whispered again, kissing my palm softly. He pulled his blankets up, getting comfortable, but not relinquishing his hold on my hand.

He was almost close enough for me to feel his breath. Chills went down my spine as his thumb traced out the lines of my palm, but I was too tired to think about it enough to remember I should object. I snuggled deeper into the blankets, feeling my eyes start to droop. Just before I was completely asleep I could hear Anders muttering. "Hey, isn't that my blanket?"

* * *

"How sweet." My eyes snapped open, meeting a pair of hazel ones that looked as confused as I felt. At some point in the night we'd moved closer together without unlinking our hands. Ser Pounce-a-lot was splayed out across both our legs, purring with contentment. I turned my head to see Oghren standing at our feet. "I think I'm gonna vomit," Oghren concluded, walking off.

The kitten made a noise of disapproval as I sat up, pulling my hand free. "So much for being the responsible leader," I muttered.

"Maker's breath, will you sodding come off that already?" Anders snapped from next to me. I looked at him. He had rolled to his back and was staring at me with annoyance. "You wear that damned Commander title like it's a pair of manacles. No. One. Cares." I sighed and tied my hair back once more. He was right, of course. No one cared besides me. The guards and troops might raise an eyebrow, but after the looks I got at all the celebratory events in Denerim with a foreigner, and an elf, on my arm I don't know why I would let that stop me. As for the nobles, well, why did I suddenly care what they thought of me?

_Because it's easier to blame duty than admit you're worried about getting hurt again, _my mind provided quickly. And I knew that was true as well.

An arm snaked around my back, pulling me, and I didn't resist. "I'm not him," Anders said, more quietly than before. "I'm not going to sneak out in the middle of the night." But then, Zevran hadn't intended to sneak away either, not from the beginning. Another arm wrapped around me and I leaned into his chest.

"What do you want from me, Anders?" I finally said.

"I want you to stop waiting for someone to give you permission to be alive." He grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. Lips crushed against mine and I gasped for a moment before I felt myself responding. My arms circled his back, a hand winding through Anders' long blond hair. Stubble scratched against my face as our tongues danced, hot and wet. The dark crackle of magic began to fill the air around us, prickling at my skin. I bit down on his lip and found myself rewarded with a groan and a tightening of the arms around me, but it was cut short by pounding on the door. We separated with a mutual sigh.

"Move your arses, sparkle-fingers!" shouted Oghren.

"Are you going to take that from him?" Anders laughed, helping me to my feet. "I thought you were supposed to be the Commander!"

"One kiss and you're already telling me how to do my job?" I replied with an elbow to his chest. "See, this is exactly what I was worried about."


	18. We were just discussing magic!

_A/N: Will she? Won't she? As if we didn't all know already. It's amazing she held out as long as she did! __(Plus, well, the ratings change... NSFW below!) _

_As always, I love reviews!_

* * *

I handed Varel all the evidence of the conspiracy as soon as we returned to the Keep late that evening. His eyes widened, and he passed the list on to a guard with instructions to arrest them all. "This arrived from Denerim while you were gone," he said, passing me a piece of paper. It was still sealed. Good. Some guard in the palace had the job of inspecting private correspondence for "safety reasons," I'd nearly had to set him on fire when he opened a letter from Weisshaupt to me. Fortunately it didn't contain anything secret, but if it had it would have been disastrous. Alistair didn't know, of course, and put a stop to it when I complained. Another holdover from the Mac Tir days.

I pounded the stairs to my room, falling onto my bed before I slid a fingernail under the wax seal. Scanning the letter quickly, I nearly dropped the second page.

_Maggie-_

_I've had dreams of talking darkspawn. Very creepy. Please let me know if that makes any sense to you, or if I've just lost my mind. I know I'm not actively a Warden, but try to keep me updated whenever you can- it may impact the safety of Ferelden as well._

_Rumors of a conspiracy against the Wardens has been floating around. I don't have details, but if I get any I'll let you know. Leliana's due back from Haven soon, I may see if she can put her talents to use there. In any case, I've declared it treason to interfere with the Grey Wardens in the course of their duties, just to plan for the worst. Don't need more power hungry nobles nearly letting a blight go unchecked- again. Don't let it go to your head. (Not that it would). A copy of the decree is attached. For what it may be worth, Eamon says crack down hard and send a message, or people will start to walk all over you. For once I'm inclined to agree._

_The crow sent me a letter, asking about you. I didn't respond yet, thought I should check with you first. I still say forget him, you're better off without. What about that mage you conscripted while I was there? ** Even I** could see how you two were eyeing each other. Don't play innocent- I've known you too long for that. And I've heard too many your stories from the tower. Speaking of shameless, Bann Teagan sends his regards. I don't even **want **to know what that was about from the look on his face. My step-uncle, Maggie? Really?_

_Hope all is well in Amarantine. Once you're settled in let me know if you plan to travel in your search for recruits, I can have the Crown (Maker, I still find that strange) donate some wagons and horses._

_The palace is boring without you to cause trouble. _

_-A_

A quick glance at the second page revealed it was a copy of the royal decree, complete with wax seal and Alistair's neat signature at the bottom. I swear, the Maker gave that man the gift of good timing.

If Alistair was having nightmares of the talking darkspawn other Wardens might be as well. Distance wise we weren't much further from their Warden headquarters in the Free Marches just across the sea than we were from Denerim. I hoped this didn't mean they were making another move on the capital, though. The city still wasn't rebuilt from the battle against the archdemon, and I didn't have anywhere near enough Wardens to defend it.

I could only console myself with the idea that, if darkspawn were about, he himself would be able to sense them as well as I could.

Dropping the letter beside me I grabbed a book from my nightstand. I was intentionally trying to ignore the other information in his letter. But, if Zevran did write him, it would at least be safe to assume he wasn't related to the Crows who attacked us. That was good. His asking about me, however, was curious, for lack of a better term. Not _bad_ exactly. I'd honestly prefer I left some sort of impression. Knowing he could up and leave without a second thought had shattered whatever ego I possessed. Finding out that wasn't the case was comforting, in an undoubtedly unhealthy way. It wasn't exactly a good thing, though. He was part of my past, a part I hoped was behind me.

I tried to focus on my book. After spending far too long on the same page I realized I had reread a single paragraph at least four times. I must have spent too many months sleeping in at the palace. Getting used to traveling and fighting all day once more was _exhausting._ Not to mention how distracted I found myself at the fingertips kept drifting up to my lips, a smile plastered across my face as I remembered the feeling of stubble scratching my cheeks and the heat of Anders' mouth. I thought I heard footsteps at one point but found I was just too tired to care. If someone wanted to kill me in my bed, well, that would just mean another lucky person got to deal with the trade route attacks tomorrow.

The sunlight was pouring through my window when I woke up. I must have forgotten to close the drapes last night since I never actually planned to fall asleep. Glancing at the wool blanket now covering me I smiled, realizing who the footsteps last night must have belonged to. My grin faded quickly. _Andraste's blood,_ I thought to myself_. _I hadn't planned on falling asleep in my book last night. The plan was to read for a little while, just until any thoughts of conspiracies, talking darkspawn, and Maker-damn-him-Zevran were out of my mind. After that, I was going to look for Anders and… what? Talk? Well, whatever I had planned, it didn't happen.

I found Varel in the throne room. Vaguely I wondered if he just stood there all day, waiting for me to have a question or job for him. Tossing my pack and bedroll by the wall, I handed him Alistair's royal proclamation. "We're headed back out today, but I thought you would enjoy reading this. Perhaps post a copy in the dungeon for our future prisoners?" I laughed as Varel scanned the page, watching his eyes widen and a grin form.

"Should we execute them immediately?"

After thinking about it for a moment I shook my head. "I want them to understand why it's treason. If they're going to die there's no fear of anyone sharing secrets. I'll tell them myself what would happen without the Grey Wardens." I shrugged. "I want them to know it isn't about politics."

"As you wish," Varel said with a smile. I nodded to him and headed off to breakfast.

For once, I was the first one awake. Well, other than after their Joinings, but I hardly think that should count. I was making headway on the book I started the night before when I felt hands on my shoulders. "If that's the one you fell asleep over last night maybe it isn't the best way to start your morning."

Setting the book aside I turned to smile as Anders slid into the chair next to mine. "Thanks again for the blanket," I told him. "I didn't intend to fall asleep face down in a book last night." _That sounded better in my head, _I thought briefly. "Er, I mean I was planning to look for you." _Not an improvement, Maggie_. "To talk," I finished lamely. His smile, which seemed to grow the entire time I spoke, crashed on the final two words. _Fail, Maggie. Epic fail._

After a pause while I resisted the urge to smack myself in the head Anders spoke up. "I suppose I should apologize for yesterday morning." He looked miserable.

"No you shouldn't."

"No, I understand, I was out of line, I-"

His jaw clicked shut, cutting short the apology when I jumped from my chair. Anders regarded me warily. _Maker's breath, Maggie, you've practically got a royal approval. What more do you need?_ I thought, forcing myself to step between him and the table. Without letting myself think anything else I leaned over to where he sat and met his lips with my own. With a rumbling noise in from his chest I would almost have called a growl he gripped me by the waist, pulling me from my feet and onto his legs.

We kissed hungrily, arms clamped around each other. Anders reached up, tangling a hand into my hair. With a harsh yank he pulled my head back, making me groan as his mouth descended on my throat, teasing me with his lips and teeth. Eyes closed, I was barely aware of my panting breath or hips grinding into his lap.

A cough issued from across the room. I froze, the hand gripping my hair dropped like it was on fire, the mouth at my throat retreated. Forcing my eyes to open I turned my head slowly towards the noise. Nathaniel, red faced and carefully examining the fastenings of his own boots, stood in the doorway. Next to him was Sigrun, eyes bright with humor, a hand over her mouth as she fought back laughter. _Of course, _I thought.

"Um…," I said, searching for an explanation. Well, an explanation less embarrassing than the perfectly obvious one each of us knew to be the truth. "We were just…" my voice trailed off, unable to find a way to complete that sentence.

"discussing magic!" Anders finished for me.

"Of course," Nathaniel answered, sounding less than believing. Realizing I was still straddling the mage, my robes hitched up to my thighs, I moved to stand and recover whatever shreds of dignity I might be able to salvage from the situation. Anders grabbed my hip when he realized what I was doing; casting me a pleading glance before darting his eyes downward briefly, even more color rushing to his cheeks. _Damn,_ I thought, as Sigrun momentarily lost her fight against the giggles before clamping her other hand on top of the first. I gave Anders what I hoped was an understanding look before I removed his hand, carefully climbing down to stand between him and our audience.

Hastily smoothing the skirt of my robe I offered them a sheepish smile. I could feel Anders stand up behind me, holding me by the shoulders like a human shield. "We're going to head out after lunch so, um, be ready," I said to them as I was dragged backwards from the room.

As the door to the dining hall closed behind, well, in front of me since I was still being pulled by Anders I heard Sigrun lose her battle with laughter. After a moment Nathaniel joined in.

"Makers breath," he said, continuing our reverse march down the hall. "That was more embarrassing than being caught by the templars."

"Quit pulling me," I protested, yanking my shoulder free and turning to face him. "I'm not walking backwards up the stairs!"

"What? Oh… sorry," he replied. A split second later it was followed by "So, upstairs then?" Anders was grinning, any trace of embarrassment erased from his features.

"Andraste's blood, yes," I answered, returning his grin with one that was, perhaps, even more lecherous. "Unless you'd rather we just plant ourselves where Justice and Oghren can walk by, too."

"No, nooo, nooo" he said, pulling me by the hand towards the main hall. _At least now I'm facing the right direction,_ I thought, as Anders led me through the Keep. "Upstairs is fine. Upstairs is good."

We thundered through the main hall, our pace nearly at a run. Varel called to me but I only managed to shout "mage business!" over my shoulder. Anders kept my hand in a death grip and I fought to keep up with his longer strides. Finally reaching the stairwell, Anders pushed me into a dark corner behind a tapestry, kissing me roughly. He began to shove the skirt of my robes up towards my hips. I pulled my mouth away after a moment. "Upstairs," I reminded him.

"Right," he said. "Old habits, sorry." He grabbed me by the waist, throwing me across his shoulder. "Upstairs!"

"Andraste's ass!" I shouted, as he climbed the stairs, my legs kicking. "What are you doing?!"

"Going… upstairs," he huffed. He might have been unusually muscular for a mage, but I spent my days either walking or killing things, usually both. There was no way I was an easy burden.

"I can walk!" This dramatic gesture of his wouldn't be worth much if he collapsed before we reached the second floor. I didn't know how long my nerve would last, but I was currently anxious to see just _how_ muscular he was under those robes and I wouldn't if he was unconscious.

He paused at a landing, dropping me unceremoniously to my feet. "Sorry," Anders panted. "Heavier than you look."

"Wow, thanks," I told him. "Just what every girl wants to hear." He started to stammer an apology before I pulled him into another quick kiss. "up. stairs."

"Right," Anders agreed laughing, grabbing my hand again. We nearly collided with Justice and Oghren as we cleared the final step. They darted aside as we passed, Oghren shouting at us to have fun. _Well, that's everyone_, I thought with wince as I could hear Justice asking Oghren why we were running the wrong way.

He stopped after reaching the hall where our rooms were, sending me crashing into him. "Ooof," I muttered, rubbing my nose.

Anders cast a quick healing spell. "It's fine. You're fine. Right?"

"Right," I agreed. "so…. Why did you stop?"

"Oh," Anders said, looking at me. "I was trying to decide which room." I glanced into the open door of his room. The unmade bed would only be large enough for two adults if they were both elves, and even that was a stretch.

"Mine." He nodded, heading through my office. I followed him, pausing to lock the hall door, and then the bedroom. Not that I expected anyone to burst in but, after the morning so far, I wouldn't have been surprised.

And, at this point, nerves decided to catch up to both of us. We froze, staring at the bed. "Are you sure…" he began.

"…Yes," I answered, nodding slowly.

"Because if you're not…" Anders cast me a doubtful glance.

I sat on the edge of the bed and smiled up at him. After more than a month of fighting with my worries about duty it seemed both funny and completely appropriate that he was the one suddenly struck with cold feet. "Anders, I'm sure. Totally, completely, absolutely sure." I moved over on the bed, turning so I was facing the right way, to punctuate this statement.

He relaxed and grinned, climbing to join me on the bed. I noticed him setting the bracers I had given him on the nightstand while I yanked at my own gloves. A hand pushed me back against the mattress gently as our lips met. Running his hands across my body, he gasped as I pressed against him, grinding my hips. Shifting his weight, Anders rolled onto me eliciting a small moan he cut short with another kiss. I responded by wrapping my legs around his while reaching up to untie his ponytail. The leather tie was unceremoniously tossed to the floor quickly, one of my hands already wound through his long hair. Teeth returned to my neck as his hands became more directed. The casual exploration was replaced by his pointed attention to the various buckles of my robes. I followed suit, and seconds later two fur-trimmed shoulder capes were tossed aside.

Anders shuddered as I ran my tongue along the exposed muscles of his upper arms, my hands working on his belt. "Maker's breath," I muttered. "Doesn't anyone in Tevinter ever worry about getting these things _off?"_ He laughed and pulled away from me, rising up to kneel on the bed. Undoing the buckles himself, he unwound the belt from his hips. Seeing how many times the thing was designed to wrap over itself and how much of the robe was actually just part of the elaborate belt I decided that, no, in fact, no one in the whole of the Tevinter Imperium had a single thought about getting their robes off. How could there be any other explanation? I shrugged and removed my own, far less elaborate, belt.

Running his hands slowly from my ankle up my leg Anders paused with a smile, hands at my thigh, watching me squirm beneath him trying to urge him to keep going. Hands retracing their path downward I realized what the goal had been as a stocking sailed over his shoulder. Knowing this, I didn't groan in frustration any less when he his fingers never traced higher than my thigh on the opposite leg. Anders reached down, running a hand between my breasts towards my navel, then back again, confusion on his face. "Buttons?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Laces. In back."

"Andraste's knickerweasels," he muttered, pulling me into a sitting position. "_Mine_ buttons." Taking that as an invitation I quickly set to work on the long row of tiny buttons on his robe while he reached behind me, his hands quickly untying the bow and loosening the cord. "This," he said more to himself than me, "is the down side of the robes." I was inclined to agree.

Buttons defeated, he shrugged out of his robe and kicked it aside. I barely had a moment to admire just how very well muscled his chest was before my own robes were yanked up and over my head. "Finally," he whispered in my ear, pushing me to my back again as he settled between my legs.

He kissed me hungrily, mouth hot and tasting faintly of lyrium, while I ran my hands over his chest and back. Pushing his hips into mine Anders smiled as I moaned, arching my back. He ran a hand across my chest, teasing me through the cloth. I reached back and untied the thin fabric, tossing it aside. Seconds later teeth grazed one nipple, a hand at the other. My entire body shuddered as a small spark leapt from his fingertip. "Not… fair," I gasped.

"Is too," he slid up, muttering into my neck, hands busy trying to pull the last of my undergarments over my hips. I focused my attention for a moment and smiled, running an ice-covered finger across his chest, from one nipple to the other. Anders sagged above me, gasping. "You… evil," he panted, climbing off me to finally remove the last of my, and then his own, clothing.

I leaned over, running my tongue along his length before wrapping my lips around him. Anders gasped, hands in my hair, moaning my name. Darting my eyes upward I saw his head back, eyes half closed. As if sensing my gaze he looked down and pushed me away. Hands on my shoulders, he guided my back to the mattress before settling between my legs again. Lips and teeth grazed my thighs, alternating sides as they moved upwards. I was groaning and squirming, realizing his intention.

After what felt like an eternity of Anders teasing my thighs and stomach he finally slid two fingers into me, moaning what sounded like my name again, before leaning down. I screamed his name the moment his tongue touched me, my hands grabbing him by the hair. He laid an arm across my stomach, holding my hips down, as my back arched. Releasing his hair, I grabbed the headboard above me, howling incoherently as a shudder ran through my body.

Collapsing back against the pillows I panted, eyes closed. Damp lips met my own, I growled and ran my tongue over them. "Now," I whispered, reaching down to wrap my hand around him. "Please." He groaned as he shifted his hips slightly, allowing me to guide him with my fingertips. I sighed as Anders slid into me, leaning up to kiss him again. He broke off the kiss as my hand retreated, taking it in his own.

"No," he whispered, a devious glint in his eye. Guiding my fingers so I was touching myself he whispered "leave your hand there." I nodded with a grin, holding him close with my other arm. I could feel Anders moving inside me as my own hand slid back and forth, matching his pace. We were both gasping. Hearing how he whispered my name into my ear, breath hot, caused me to moan.

I shifted my hips, wrapping my legs around him while moaning. "Harder," I pleaded. Anders complied, biting down where my neck and shoulder met. I screamed his name again as another powerful shudder ripped through my body.

His grip on me tightened, fingers squeezing my hips tightly as his movement sped up. Our eyes met and I moved my hand across his shoulders, resting it on his cheek. Calling my name he pounded into me a final time before tensing and collapsing.

"Maker's breath," I gasped, wrapping my arms around his back. Anders muttered something incoherent into my neck. We both struggled to catch our breath. After a moment Anders propped himself up on his arms again, leaning over for another kiss before rolling to lie next to me. I curled against him as he pulled the blanket over our bodies. Neither of us spoke at first, his hands playing with my hair while I ran my fingers across his back. Anders finally broke the silence.

"That," he said still panting, "was worth the wait."

* * *

_A/N: Longest, filthiest chapter to date! Go me! I am totally unsure about myself when it comes to writing anything even remotely smutty. I'd honestly appreciate any feedback with regards to that._


	19. Now you're just being creepy

I was warm and comfortable, wondering just where my sudden concerns for appearance had come from over the last month. Anders ran a finger up and down my arm as I played with his hair and we talked of places we'd like to visit. It had been a common discussion among apprentices, but with us the unspoken truth was that now we _could._ I told him the stories of Val Royeaux that Leliana had shared with me, Anders told me of his fascination with the underground city of Orzammar. We both thought that, as mages, seeing the Tevinter Imperium for ourselves would be interesting, and he agreed with my curiosity about Weisshaupt even knowing what Riordan had told me.

There were just two problems in the world at the moment. The first was that I knew four Wardens waited downstairs for their Commander to lead them to the Wending Wood. The second was that, after skipping breakfast, I was so hungry even the blanket was starting to look edible. After trying to convince myself neither of those things mattered and failing, I determined I would have to say something.

"You know," Anders said, interrupting my thoughts, "I hate to say it, but I'm _starving_."

"Me too," I admitted. "And everyone is waiting for us downstairs. We're supposed to head out after lunch." Thinking about the four of them snickering downstairs was enough to get me moving. With a groan I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. "Right," I said, reaching to the floor trying to figure out what was mine.

Anders was still lying in bed, watching me get ready. "I thought you were starving?" I asked him, whipping a brush through my hair. He didn't reply, but climbed out of bed and began to dress.

"I am, but I didn't want to move, either," He climbed out of bed and began buttoning his robes. "You can see the dilemma I was in." I laughed and tossed him my hairbrush once his robes were on. Once presentable we walked into my office.

"I need to send a letter to Denerim today; you don't have to wait for me if you don't want to."

"I'm not facing them alone. Mostly because I'll say something off-color and you'll freeze me solid when you find out. I'll go pack, and meet you here."

I sat at my desk and scratched out a few lines for Alistair. I told him about the talking darkspawn, and their new ability to strategize. I also mentioned what they had done to the Legion of the Dead. He had met them as well, and knew how hard wiping all but one of them out would be. Anders returned, pack shouldered and dressed for travel. I noticed he was wearing the bracers I had given him. He stood next to the desk, sneaking glimpses of my letter in progress.

"You fought the blight with the king, right?" I nodded. "Did you ever…"

"With the innocent Chantry boy? Maker, no! He's like a brother, I suppose. Not that I have a brother to compare." I grinned. "Why, jealous?"

"What? No, no, of course not."

I mentioned that we had made a break in the conspirators ourselves, and how they had apparently hired the crows to go after us. That led me to what I should tell him about Zevran.

I paused, trying to think of how to phrase things, as Anders was making no secret of reading over my shoulder, while also skimming Alistair's letter to me from the previous day. _Maker help me,_ I thought. "Tell him he missed his chance," Anders said, now standing behind me to read with more ease.

"Can you see," I mocked. "Should I move over?"

"No, you're fine." He ignored the tone of my voice, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. "Also, tell him to let the Crow know about the lightning. You did promise I could shoot lightning at fools."

"I did not!" I protested. "You said you wanted to, and I asked if darkspawn would be close enough." But, I included it in the letter, knowing Alistair would chuckle when he read it, earning a nod from Anders in the process. Once finished I put away my pen and ink, tucking the folded letter into a pocket. "So, lunch?" I asked, jumping to my feet.

Anders tossed me a lecherous grin, planting himself between me and the door. "Why rush?" he asked. That was enough to distract me from food. Our lips met as his arms closed around me and he turned me so my back was against the door. Anders was attempting to work my robes up when someone began knocking. "Andraste's ass," I muttered as we split up, smoothing my robes before I opened the door.

Sigrun was grinning up at me from the other side.

"Didn't want you to miss lunch, too," she said. "Discussing magic must be distracting," she added after taking in my flushed cheeks and disheveled clothes with a wink.

"Thanks," I blushed further. "We were just headed downstairs." Sigrun giggled and headed off towards the stairs.

Thankfully lunch was far less embarrassing than I had worried. Oghren had clapped Anders on the back as he walked by, but that was about it. I managed to slip back into my working mindset between devouring several bowls of lamb stew. I detailed everything we had to do once we reached the woods, and, remembering our spoils from yesterday, confirmed if everyone could ride a horse. Sigrun couldn't, but it turns out that wouldn't matter. I had barely asked before Nathaniel went into great detail about how the area we were headed to would be, at least in part, only navigable by foot. Figures. "I wish we still had griffins," I muttered, not looking forward to more walking.

"We had griffins?" Sigrun asked, confused.

I shouldn't have expected either of them to be up on their surface legends and history. "Not _us_ specifically," I explained. "Wardens used to ride griffins, years ago. It would come in useful."

Sigrun nodded. "That explains… a lot, actually." I looked at her blankly, not sure what needed explanation. "Your robes and office, all the banners, the paintings…"

"What, until now you just thought I had a strange griffin obsession?"

"Pretty much, yes. Now I know that it's just a strange Warden obsession."

"It's not that strange," I protested. "The Wardens are great. I love being a Warden." I shook my head, laughing. "Besides, can you imagine me doing anything else?"

Nathaniel looked dubious. "While it isn't _bad, _that seems a little excessive. Early death and all?"

"Considering the alternative for me was going to be hanging or Aeonar, the mage prison, absolutely. Even if it hadn't been, I'll take this over life in a cage." His eyes widened and I remembered Nathaniel didn't know how I came to be a Warden. I suspected he'd be asking me soon, though, as would Justice, who was eying me warily from the other end of the table. _That will be a fun discussion_, I thought.

We began to rise, everyone headed to the main hall. "Skirtboy, a word," Oghren called from behind me. I looked over at Anders and shrugged. Whatever Oghren wanted to say would get said one way or another; keeping him quiet, even sober, was a near impossible task. Better now than in front of a large crowd of people. Anders passed me Ser Pounce-a-lot with a shake of his head.

The two men joined us after a little while, Anders looking slightly pale as they slipped their own packs on. Oghren clapped me on the shoulder, nearly sending me falling forward. "Oghren's got your back," he said. _What in the black city was that about,_ I wondered. I'd have to ask Anders, who was being unusually quiet for him. Later.

I listened to the others chat while Nathaniel fed me directions. He insisted on making me confirm them on the map every time, occasionally trying to make me plot our route and correcting me when I was wrong. After the third time he had to explain what markings were valleys, what were mountains, and what were rivers, he gave up. We made camp quickly that evening, hoping to get our tents up before the darkness made it impossible.

"Let me help you," Anders said as I fought with a tent spike in the dry ground. I gladly relinquished it and stood back. "Funny thing," he said, quickly forcing the canvas sheets to take on the proper shape despite a kitten attempting to scale both him and the tent at the same time. "I thought I packed my tent. I always do. But I checked my pack again and it just isn't there."

"That _is_ funny," I agreed. "Well, my tent is the biggest, so if anyone was going to double up it would only make sense that you share mine."

"You _are_ a giver. It's one of the things I like best about you."

"Just one?" I prodded, grinning.

"Maker, don't start that, it demeans us both."

"Fine," I pouted. "You're no fun."

"I am a good deal of fun," Anders protested, leering at me. "You didn't seem to complain this morning."

"Oh ewww," Sigrun piped up. "I _didn't_ need to hear that."

Anders raised his eyebrows in an expression of mock-innocence and walked over to the fire, checking on whatever Nathaniel had been preparing for dinner. Announcing it was done we all took a seat.

"I was unaware that you are a criminal," Justice said after we had settled in, looking pointedly at me. I coughed. _Not one to mince words, apparently_, I thought. "It seems the Wardens spared you from punishment. I find myself anxious to know what offense you committed." It wasn't a question, I noticed.

"I don't consider myself a criminal," I argued.

"Few criminals do," Justice countered.

I cast him a withering glance. "I am _aware_ of that. I'm not denying anything I did; I just don't feel my actions were criminal. I thought I was doing the right thing then, and I still do now." I stared into the fire, collecting my thoughts.

"I don't tell this story often, there's only…" I paused counting, "five living people who've heard the real version. The King, his chancellor who got the story from him to distill it into a version appropriate for publicity, a witch of the wilds who traveled with us during the blight, my best friend from the tower, who played a part in it, and Anders" First Enchanter Irving and templars who were present knew a version of it, of course. I suspect Irving believed my version was true, or mostly true, but the templars would never give a mage the benefit of the doubt. Even a barely-templar like Alistair was appalled.

"Sparkle-fingers knows and I don't?" Oghren protested. "What, do you swap stories of being condemned to death as pillow talk? Even I think that's a bit twitchy."

I rolled my eyes. "I knew a Circle mage would understand. But, I know how all of you came to be Wardens so it seems only fair."

This wasn't the _official_, version, of course. That one, concocted by Arl Eamon after Alistair filled him in on the truth, did mention I was top of my class in Primal magic and specifically recruited by the Wardens as a result. It left out several key facts as blood magic and attempting to break chantry law didn't make for heroic tales. But then, it wasn't the twisted 'Margaret Amell, evil kidnapping blood mage temptress' version the templars passed on to Anders, either, so that's something at least.

To my surprise, no one was particularly scandalized. Nathaniel did confirm, several times, that I honestly had no idea Jowan was a blood mage, but stopped when I pointed out that I had since become one myself and that was beside the point. Even Justice nodded with approval, telling me I had acted with noble intentions. _Thank the Maker_, I thought briefly. I had been worried he would disapprove, and didn't know if that would involve his challenging me to a fight like Sten had. I had no idea how magic would react with his decaying flesh, and didn't want to find out. If I wasn't mistaken, Sigrun looked at me with a new degree of respect after.

"Here I thought you were Lady Perfect Warden," she laughed.

"A lot of us were criminals in our old lives. The last commander was conscripted before they could hang him for murder in Val Royeaux."

"The Grey Wardens have ever been a haven for criminals and maleficar," Anders said, imitating Ser Rylock's deadpan delivery.

"Now that's just cold," Nathaniel protested, recognizing the line. Oghren laughed, but Sigrun and Justice looked confused.

"Something a templar said to us," I explained. "She thought conscription didn't apply to people she disliked."

"Sadly, now dead," Anders added.

"So we killed her," I said, at the same time. "But she did start the fight," I hastily added.

Once the pot of stew had been devoured and dishes washed Sigrun set about pestering Anders. Revenge for his questions on the Legion and dwarven funerals, I suppose. I still couldn't believe she had briefly convinced him funerals on Orzammar involved an orgy. She was urgently trying to convince him a bush bordering our campsite was, in fact, evil and needed to be destroyed. With magic, obviously.

"Magic isn't for your amusement!" he finally sputtered. "Why don't I just do a little dance? Anders' Spicy Shimmy?"

"Oh, eww. I'll pass," she groaned. "You can save that for Maggie."

I raised a hand, pointing at the bush, and concentrated for a second. Ice leapt from my fingertips to the leaves, coating it in frost. Sigrun applauded. Anders looked over at me and I shrugged. "Like you've never been frivolous with magic."

Slowly everyone drifted to their tents, leaving Anders and I to our watch. "So what did Oghren have to say?" I asked. "Was it the one about tapping the midnight still, or forging the moaning statue?" I laughed to myself, trying to recount his flair for euphemism. "Or donning the velvet hat."

"What?" Anders choked. "Where did you get _those_?"

"They're all Oghren's. He's got a surprising way with words."

"Apparently. No, I didn't get anything like that." Anders paused, drinking from a mug of tea. "He actually wanted to threaten me."

It was my turn to choke. "What?!"

Anders looked amused. "Our drunken dwarven friend has told me that if I plan to, um… how did he put it… 'toss you aside like a noble at his birthday party,' he would personally crush my 'tiny human skull.'"

"Maker's breath, I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with him."

"If he wants to take time from drinking and belching to be overprotective of you I can't blame him. It's actually one of his more redeeming qualities. His only redeeming quality, maybe. The smell balances all the others out." I relaxed, glad he wasn't offended. Until that point part of me was wondering if I would be just another conquest, even if I knew how silly that fear was. I wasn't enough of a beauty for a man to spend a month perusing me with no goal beyond a single night, even if I was stuck with that stupid hero title. Being rejected in front of the entirety of the Ferelden Wardens would have been a new and particularly agonizing level of humiliation, though.

"Strange," I said. "Even Oghren told me I should stop worrying and," I tried to remember a proper Oghren-ism, "buck the forbidden horse."

"I don't know if I should be more disturbed by that phrasing, or by you getting advice from Oghren. Advice you apparently followed, no less."

"Well, he has been married. Twice." Remembering his first wife I realized that was a giant, glowing reason to _never_ accept advice from Oghren on anything, ever. Even still, in this group that practically made him an expert on romance.

"Didn't you kill his first wife?"

"Technically, but she was insane."

"You don't actually think that makes it sound _more_ reasonable, do you?" He chuckled. "Although I should be grateful you listened to him."

"You should," I agreed, leaning into him.

Eventually Justice joined us by the fire, signaling the end of our watch. Anders retreated to my tent, but Justice stopped me. "Maggie, do you have a moment?"

"Sure, Justice," I replied, joining him by the fire.

He seemed uncomfortable, although Justice was very difficult to read. I don't think Kristoff's body responded to normal facial muscle ticks like a living one would. Not anymore, at least. "I wonder how just it is that the Wardens aid criminals in escaping punishment." _A valid question,_ I thought. Not an easy one to answer, that's for sure.

"Justice, you've seen old people walking around, right?" He nodded, looking confused. "Well, none of us will ever be one. Wardens get about thirty years to live, and those thirty years are dedicated to fighting darkspawn. I think it's a fair trade." Justice wished me goodnight after promising to think on that. I walked to my tent, but he spoke up before I could enter.

"Maggie, I believe Anders is already using that tent."

"Um… yes, I uh knew that," I stammered, wishing I could avoid whatever inevitable embarrassing end this discussion would have.

"Ah. Shared sleeping quarters, I have memories of that from Kristoff. You and Anders are married? I apologize, I was not aware of this."

"What?" I choked, trying not to laugh. "Um, no, we're not. Mages aren't, um, as formal as most people. Technically we aren't even supposed to get married."

"This is part of your oppression?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Well, it's not forbidden, but it's definitely discouraged. I've never heard of it happening, and I doubt most priests would even perform the service."

"I do not understand how your society accepts the treatment of your kind," he stated in all seriousness, giving me a look that was somewhere near pity. I could only agree and wish him goodnight once more.

Anders was already lying under the blankets. "What was that about?"

I changed into a nightdress while we spoke, aware of Anders watching me intently. "Well, first he was concerned about the wardens harboring the unjust. Took care of that." I stifled a giggle.

"And?"

I picked up my pillow to muffle the laughter, not wanting Justice to hear me. Once I had calmed down I said "well, he pointed out I was walking into a tent you were using. When I told him I knew he," more giggles, "he apologized for not realizing we were _married."_

Anders' eyes widened. "Married mages? Who ever heard of such a thing!?"

"He's been mortal for a week, he didn't know. Now he just feels bad for us poor, oppressed mages. Well, more so. It is kind of nice to know that the personification of Justice is on our side, even if the Chantry would never care."

"Great. He already expects me to free every mage in Ferelden, now he'll be bugging me about this, too." I snorted and Anders hastily added, "I mean, we haven't exactly known each other that long and-"

"Hey, don't worry about me; I'm of the same mind as you on this."

"I don't know if I should be relieved or insulted."

I rolled my eyes, jumping to kneel next to Anders, clasping his hands in mine. "Oh please, my darling! Won't you make an honest woman out of me? What will become of me now that you have sullied my innocence? What man would have a darkspawn-killing maleficar knowing she has dallied with an apostate?"

"All right, very clever."

Amused, I went on. "Kind ser, please take me for your wife! We can settle on a farm, and I shall provide you with unholy and corrupted heirs!"

"OK, now you're just being creepy."

I climbed under the blankets, curling next to him. "Yeah, I get that sometimes. People say its part of my charm. Well, some people."

He sighed. It was rather like the sound Alistair made whenever I carried a joke a bit too far. Looking over I noticed that his nose was … disturbingly similar to Alistair's, and wondered _just_ how much Good King Maric got around. His brow line wasn't too far off, either, now that I thought of it, although the hair was a bit lighter. They also both twitched one eyebrow up when they were being sarcastic.

Anders snapped me from my bizarre train of thought. "I suppose you can count me among them, then" he said wrapping his arms around me. _Thought for another time,_ I reminded myself, already arching my body against his as Anders ran his hands along my sides.

* * *

_A/N: I may start going for longer chapters, between 3 and 4000 words, like the last couple have been. Any readers have thoughts on that, good or bad?_

_As always, I love seeing how many people are reading this. Nice to know I'm not just typing into the void or something. ;)  
_


	20. Do they have a secret treaty?

Later that evening, as we shivered under our blankets, sweat cooling our skin, I noticed Anders began to toss and turn. After the third or fourth time he had gone from his right side, to his back, to his left side, and onto his back again, managing to elbow or kick me accidentally with every rotation and sending the kitten to hide behind our packs, I sat up.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine!" he said quickly, continuing to shift around on the bedroll. I watched him for a while, wondering if he was suddenly having second thoughts when faced with actually _sleeping_ next to me. "Anders?"

"Maker's breath," he muttered. "Did you, um…"

"Did I what?"

"Did you _cast_ something on me?" I pulled away from him sharply, darting to the other side of the tent. _Is that a blood mage comment_, I thought, beginning to panic. _Some crack about mind control? _ Did he really think I would do something like that? We had talked about my use of blood magic several times. Well, argued might be a more accurate word, but he _knew _me. Merciful Andraste, did he already regret sharing my bed so much he assumed I _enthralled_ him?!

"Anders," I said, keeping my voice level, "what exactly are you accusing me of?"

"Accusing?" he said, sounding confused.

"Yes, accusing!" I insisted. "I told you I would never use that magic against someone and now you're accusing me of casting something on you!" My voice had become almost too loud; I could hear Justice stirring outside.

"What?" Anders sat up sharply, pushing his hair back to look at me. "What are you talking about? Why are you so upset?"

"Why am I upset? You're accusing me of casting something on you! Do you think I would do that?"

"Come over here," he said. I stared at him, not moving, until he grabbed me by the legs and pulled me back to the bedroll. "All right," he said once I was next to him. "I thought you played a little prank on me. But you," he continued, "are acting like I accused you of using mind control on me."

"So… you're not, then?" I said, looking at him and relaxing.

"Makers breath," he muttered. "No, Maggie. Are you completely insane?" _Apparently_, I thought. When I didn't answer he only sighed. "All right, insane it is."

"Sorry," I offered. "It's a touchy subject." He rolled his eyes, an expression I had come to recognize as his sarcastic equivalent to 'well you don't say.' "Well, what did you think I cast?" I asked, now honestly curious.

"I don't even want to say, after all that!"

I poked him. "Come on, spill it."

He pushed his hair back again. "Fine. I thought you might have, um, cast a rejuvenate spell on me. As a joke. Or maybe a hint." I blinked. _What on Thedas…rejuvenate? _Then it hit me.

"What… oh. Oh." I said, trying not to giggle. "I… see."

"Please don't laugh," he said, blush evident even in the dim light of the tent.

"I know," I said, unable to stop giggling anyways. "I'm sorry, it's just," I took a breath, trying to get myself under control. "It's just, when I mentioned the jokes about Grey Warden _stamina_ did you actually know what I was talking about?"

Anders raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't really listening, to be honest. I had a lot on my mind at the time."

"Fair enough. Well, there you go. The fabled Warden stamina. Ta-da."

"So this is normal?"

"Yep. I spent months wondering if I'd somehow lost my mind, but Morrigan of all people knew about it. Can't believe you haven't noticed before, it hit me just after the joining."

"Never thought to ask Alistair?"

I snorted. "By the way, former templar to be, I know you're _completely_ innocent in these matters, but is it normal that I didn't even wait until the taste of darkspawn blood was out of my mouth before I started throwing myself at that fellow who leered at me when I got to camp? Hey, why are you running away with your fingers in your ears?"

He laughed. "No worries about rank then, I take it?"

"I was the junior Warden, rank was their problem to worry about."

"Harlot," Anders snickered. I elbowed him.

"Watch it," I warned, "You don't want to get on the bad side of one of the only women in Ferelden who can keep up with you."

From what I could tell, Anders seemed to agree with that sentiment.

The next morning I noticed Sigrun staring at me strangely while I made breakfast. Most of the camp was still asleep, we were trying to keep our voices down. She was busily sharpening her daggers, watching me cook. "Something wrong?" I asked her.

All she said was "your tent," while gesturing with her dagger. _My tent?_ I spun around to look. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so I stood up and walked over to see it from her angle.

"What in the…" I muttered noticing a large singed spot. "How did that happen?"

"How did what happen?" Anders had stumbled out of the tent and was now standing behind me. I pointed at the burn. "ohhh, _that._"

"_'oh that'_?" I eyed him. "Your doing?"

"Not my fault, though." He shrugged looking unconcerned.

"If it's your doing how is it not your fault?" I groaned. "I've had this tent for _three years_! Duncan gave me this tent! It survived a whole blight and you burn it after one night?"

"I was distracted, went off by accident."

I could see Sigrun's jaw drop. "You can burn things _by accident_?! No wonder everyone's scared of mages!"

"It was just a bit of lightning, not actually fire. I always default to lightning." Anders rationalized. At least when lose control of my magic it's usually a nice non-tent-destroying ice.

"Why don't I remember you shooting lightning around?"

"Oh, that's easy," Anders said, leaning to whisper in my ear. "Because at the time you were facing me and my hands were behind you. Plus, I think your eyes might have been closed." Sigrun looked over with obvious curiosity, but she couldn't hear him.

"oh," was all I said. I glanced from the tent to a very smug looking Anders and shrugged. "Eh, barely singed."

"I don't want to know," Sigrun said.

"Good, since I wasn't going to tell you," I replied smiling.

We set out after breakfast, Nathaniel insisting we would be able to camp at the edge of the woods that evening. I kept pace with him while we walked, a plan formulating.

"I've got two questions for you. Well, requests."

"Oh?" he said neutrally.

"Relax, it's nothing bad. At least, I hope not." He didn't respond, so I went on. "The first is about your sister- her husband is a merchant, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes." I inwardly grimaced. He was still upset she had married below her status, even if it was for love. Nathaniel still hadn't quite lost the mindset of a noble.

"Well, that woman from Weisshaupt has been trying to get me to convince merchants and traders to operate out of the keep. Do you think they would be interested in relocating? We can at least provide better accommodations to what they have now. And you'd be closer when she's due." I'd managed to find a grand total of one trader so far. I knew I had to find more, there just didn't seem to be any time to ask people.

He seemed to consider this for a moment. "I'd like that. I'll ask her the next time I'm in Amaranthine." I figured he would agree with that suggestion. My other idea was saved for second, hoping the first put him in a good mood. "What else," Nathaniel asked.

"Well, I was thinking," I began, "I need to name a second in command, would you be interested?" He didn't reply, so I added "If you're not interested that's fine, I won't be offended."

"Why me?" A fair question.

"You're good with tactics, people are comfortable following your lead, and I trust your judgment."

"Not Anders?" I could actually _hear_ the smirk in his voice. It was rather impressive.

"Cute. Whatever my personal relationship is with him, I don't play favorites." He was listening, at least. "There's a good chance any one of us might not live long enough to worry about the Calling. If I act like a princess planning a fancy dress ball our odds become much worse. I have three jobs- kill darkspawn, rebuild the order, and keep everyone I recruit alive. I got this job since I'm very good at the first. I'm working hard to be good at the other two now. You are the best person for the job, so I asked you."

"I just cannot see you at a fancy dress ball."

"I'll have you know I'm a remarkably good dancer," I protested.

"I'll have to accept your word on that," Nathaniel replied dryly.

"Anyways, just think about it and let me know what you decide."

"I've already decided," he said. "I'll do it. I'm honored you asked me, actually."

"Like I said, you're the best for the job. Thank you, this is a _huge_ relief for me. I'll have Varel notify Weisshaupt when we get home."

"Strange to think of the Keep as home again," he mused. "For a while I thought I'd never return."

"Good or bad strange?"

"Just strange. Not bad, though."

"It's strange for me to think of anyplace as home. I lived in the tower from the time I was six, but it never felt like a home, just a prison. Last year I lived in the palace, but it was never home, just a place I was staying. I think the closest thing I've had to a home before now was my tent during the blight."

We walked on. I could hear Anders pestering Sigrun for more details on the Legion of the Dead. Oghren was singing softly to himself. I caught a line of the song, '_saucy lass from the merchant caste_,' and decided I didn't need to hear any more.

"Good or bad strange," Nathaniel asked me suddenly.

"Good. Definitely good. Having a place to live that I don't carry on my back, not having to drag around everything I own, having a real bed. It's nice." I laughed. "You know, until the Blight ended I'd never even had a room of my own? Apprentices slept in rows of bunk beds in one big room, and mages only rated a three wall cubicle until they made senior enchanter. Not that I was even around long enough for that."

"I find that surprising, given the stories people tell about mages." Realizing what he said, Nathaniel blushed.

"Most would, I guess. Plenty of dark hidden corners and alcoves in the tower, though. I admit, we had different rules there, I was quite shocked to see how inappropriate behavior I'd thought of as polite was when I got out. For us, it was good manners to make sure you stayed under the blankets and as quiet as you could if you were sharing your bunk with someone, and for anyone else in the room to go about their business like nothing was happening. I mentioned that to Alistair once, he was _scandalized._"I glanced over at him. "You know, like you are now." I giggled.

"It is surprising the Chantry let you carry on like that."

I shrugged. "They couldn't watch us all the time. I suspect they believed we were all damned anyways, or not really people at all, and didn't care what we did so long as it wasn't blood magic. And back then templars were all men, so no templars in the girl's bedroom. The priest said that wouldn't be _appropriate_, although the Maker knows how many of them peeked anyways, the dirty minded bastards."

"You're kidding, right? Templars hate mages, I didn't think they even looked close enough to see which were female!"

I laughed at that, but it was the common perception. "More than peeked for some of them, but even I never crossed that line. I may be a Maker-cursed mage but I've not the type to whore myself to the jailkeep for a bit of candy and a kind word about how I'm not like the others. I know damn well I'm just like the others, or worse." That was what they all seemed to say, apparently. I'd heard it from the other girls who had no problem letting the templars under their robes. _'You're not like the others, you're such a good person. How could you be a mage, you aren't wicked at all. I wish we could be married.' _And the silly fools believed them, too. That was the sad part.

"You know what's really sick?" I asked, before going on to answer for him. "The templar who was at my harrowing, he stammered and blushed over me, drooling the whole time, while telling me he was the one who had the sword to my throat, ready to cut my head off at the first sign of abomination. But he would have felt _just awful_ about it."

"I suddenly find myself hoping very desperately that my sister's child is not a mage."

"Yeah, so do I," I agreed.

We camped on the edge of the woods, just as Nathaniel had promised. Sigrun had been removed from cooking rotation until she got a better grasp on surface foods after an incident with an unusually gritty soup, so Anders made a rabbit stew for everyone. "Oghren," I called out after we had settled around the fire. "I know you've got plenty of ale with you, pass some around." He grumbled but complied.

"What's the occasion?" Sigrun asked, sipping her ale.

I shrugged. "Well, we've finally got a second in command, but I think he was the only one that didn't expect it. I mostly just wanted a drink, we haven't killed anything in _days_." I stretched my legs out, I had discarded boots and stockings as soon as Anders had the tent assembled. The fire warmed my bare feet. "And tomorrow isn't going to be easy."

"You can tell already?" Sigrun asked, sounding more excited than concerned.

I closed my eyes and focused, trying to forget they were all looking at me. My hair felt on end, a screaming in the back of my mind. "I can tell," I eventually replied. "Darkspawn, a lot of them. Too far to say how many or what kind, though. Just that it's a lot." I refilled my bowl and sat back down. "Give it time, you'll do the same. I'm better than I was during the blight. I bet if Duncan was still with us he could tell me how many, what kind, and where they were exactly, but he had more than twenty years as a Warden on me. Let's say it's enough we deserve a drink tonight. I'd advise against enough to cause a hangover, though."

I was kicking myself inside for putting the trip off for so long. I thought it would be dealing with bandits, perhaps, or a dalish/human confrontation I wanted no part in. Not darkspawn. The camp was fairly quiet for the rest of the evening.

I ran from one underground room to another, broodmothers howling in each of them. I was alone, darting through tentacles, knowing I wasn't strong enough to kill one of them by myself. My hair fell into my eyes and I shoved it back roughly. The black was streaked heavily with grey. In a tunnel a group of hurlocks surrounded me, I cast an area spell of freezing, pulled spellweaver from my back and started swinging. Blood splashed on my arms, hiding the blotchy grey patches covering my skin. I don't know how long I fought but eventually they fell. I cheered, but my voice was dry and dead, without emotion. Something grabbed me by the shoulder, shaking me roughly. I raised my arm and summoned an attack, but strong hands encircled my wrists. I screamed, pulling to free myself.

"Maggie, it's me!" A familiar voice called out, but my wrists were still trapped, sparks falling from my fingers. I blinked, eyes clearing. I was in my tent. Sweat covered my pale, scarred but otherwise normal arms. My hair, still black, hung in my face. Anders was looking at me, eyes wide with fear.

"Makers breath!" I gasped. "Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry!"

"I'm fine," he insisted. "You were screaming." He pulled me into his arms, I was silent against him, fighting for breath.

"I'm sorry," I finally said. "Nightmare." I couldn't remember ever attacking someone after a nightmare, but I couldn't remember someone ever waking me from one, either. Anders eased his grip on me. I could hear people talking outside. Nathaniel's voice cut through the night.

"I don't care how strange mages are, no one makes a sound like that unless they're hurt or terrified! She was screaming 'no' at something!" Sigrun, her voice lower, was replying to him. It was still full dark, so they must have been on third watch.

"Back in a second," I said, extracting myself from Anders' arms. I climbed from the tent, still in my nightdress. Both of their necks snapped, looking at me. "Sorry," I muttered, blushing. "I had a nightmare. It was a bad one."

"You're all right?" Nathaniel confirmed.

I nodded, managing an embarrassed smile. "As much as I ever am. Just be grateful you didn't join during a blight or you'd get them as bad as me, too."

"You always get them like this?" Sigrun's voice was heavy with concern.

"No, not always, but when I do they're bad. It might be because the darkspawn are close." I reached out again, probing for their taint in the distance. "Closer than they were before, at least. I don't think they know we're here, they're just moving around, not coming towards us specifically. Keep sharp just in case." They promised to do just that and I turned back, returning to my tent.

"Sorry," I said to Anders again, climbing back into the bedroll.

"No apology necessary. Let's try and get some rest." He held me to his chest, running a hand over my hair, until I fell asleep again.

The next morning I was working on my second cup of coffee by the time Anders woke up. He glanced at me, taking notice of Duncan's silverite dagger at my waist, my staff and sword crossed over my back. "Expecting a rough day?"

I shrugged. "Better to be prepared. This is a larger group than most of you have had to deal with before." I passed him several lyrium potions, he wordlessly tucked them into a pouch on his belt.

I had been right to worry, it turned out. We encountered a large group of bandits not even an hour after leaving camp. Trader carts were overturned and on fire, blocking the roadway. "I don't think this is bandits," I commented, examining them.

"Why not?" Oghren was looting corpses and, from his perspective, I could see how he would assume bandits.

"The stuff, it's still here. All of it." I cast a freezing spell, extinguishing the fire. "The merchants might even be able to salvage it."

_Bandits and darkspawn,_ I thought to myself as we walked. Why is it the darkspawn never seem to attack bandits. Do they have a secret treaty? Some kind of trade alliance? How I wish I could stumble across the two groups fighting it out between themselves, and just clean up the winners.

I tensed as we moved on. We were getting closer to the darkspawn, but something else was nearby, too. I couldn't sense it, but I could hear wood smashing and creaking.

"Andraste's ass," I shouted as a few sylvans charged towards us. "I _hate_ these things." Oghren and I attacked and, after their shock wore off, the others joined us.

"So… trees can walk?" Sigrun finally asked, once they were down.

"Just those. It's not normal, believe me." I looked around. I last saw the sylvans when we were fighting werewolves to get the aid of the Dalish. "Hm. You know, I don't know if they always travel together, but keep an eye out for werewolves."

"Maker's breath," Anders muttered, horrified.

"Werewolves, Maggie? You are joking, right?" Ever practical, Nathaniel was eyeing me like I'd just told him to watch for flying bunnies.

"Yes, werewolves. The last time I saw the trees it was in a part of the Brecilian crawling with them. Not saying we will, just be prepared. Their heart is a bit lower than it would be on a human."

"Strange," Nathaniel said to Anders, ignoring me and smirking. "She sounds completely serious. You trust her around you when you're unconscious?"

"She is serious, you nug humper," Oghren bellowed. "You should have seen 'er. Running through the woods, setting their fur on fire, all while singing. A lass after my own heart." He punctuated this statement with an impressive belch.

"Look, I'll draw you a nice picture when we get back, or you can write to the king and ask him for confirmation, but I'm telling you, werewolves are real. Or were. I might have killed them all. Maker, that would be a refreshing change." I paused. "Besides, I may be warning you for nothing. I'm just saying that's the only other time I've seen those damned moving trees."

"Singing?" Anders quirked an eyebrow up.

"Um, maybe?" I blushed. I had been so very, very tired at the time, nearly delirious with exhaustion. It put me in a sillier mood than usual. Alistair had teased me for weeks afterwards. "I don't know, the song, it was in my head. You know how that goes. Gets in there and you have to start singing it or you go nuts."

"What song?"

"A children's song Jowan used to sing to me when we were little. It was nothing."

"What song?" Anders insisted again.

"Hafter's Furry Father," I admitted. Anders and Nathaniel both roared with laughter, obviously familiar with the tune.

"You sang a nursery rhyme about werewolves while _killing_ werewolves?"

"I hate you both." I groaned, wanting to end the discussion.

"Liar, you're crazy about me." Anders poked me in the ribs, I made a face at him.

"And I'm your second in command," Nathaniel said.

"Hey, look, a bridge!" I called, walking ahead. "Let's see where it goes!"

* * *

_A/N: Hafter was, of course, Dane's foster son, and rumored to be the true son of a werewolf. I am constantly in awe of how much detail bioware puts into those codex entries. I bow to them._

_I LOVE__ reviews! _


	21. Oh good, I got special attention

I was nearly knocked over by a man in light leathers running towards us over the bridge. Oghren grabbed him by the wrist. "What are you running from?" I demanded. "What's chasing you?"

"The elf!" he shouted, near incoherent. "She makes the trees come alive." _Oh thank the Maker, _I thought briefly._ Not werewolves. _"All we wanted was some easy money from the caravans," he added, apparently thinking we were kindred spirits.

"Andraste's ass, you're a bandit?" I groaned. "Do you know how much trouble you've caused me? How many people have been complaining to me day and night because of your sort? All the blasted _paperwork?_ Not to mention," I added, getting angry, "the number of traders and merchants who are _dead_ now."

"So… kill him, then?" Oghren asked, still holding tight to the man's wrist.

"If you would," I replied. "Otherwise he'll just attack us on the road some day."

I looked for the elf he mentioned, hearing a grunt and thud behind me. "Thank you, Oghren. Andraste's ass, I hate bandits."

We didn't have to search long to find this elf. She appeared above us before the bandit had even hit the ground. Without letting me say a word, she launched into a tirade where she accused us of being scavengers, then bandits, then working for bandits or traders of some kind, who had kidnapped her sister. She then threatened us, said we had to deliver a message to these coconspirators, and vanished just as quickly.

"Well she seems nice," I commented.

"Reminds me of Morrigan," Oghren observed.

Eventually we managed to find her camp on the other side of a hill crawling with darkspawn. I sat in front of one of the aravels, helping myself to her water to wipe blood of not one but two ogres from my face. "They never attack our enemies, do they? It's like they just sit and chat until we show up." Anders crouched next to me, healing my hand.

"You know I hate doing this," he reminded me quietly.

"I know. Thank you." He finished with a shake of his head and went off to explore the camp.

I jumped up and inspected the camp. "Maker, I think that man we found was right." A lone merchant, badly corrupted, insisted the darkspawn were pitting the dalish and humans against each other. It seemed like madness at the time, but staring at a large pile of discarded weapons I began to reconsider.

"Why do you say that?" Nathaniel asked.

Pointing to the swords, shields, and even bows littering the ground I replied "Who just leaves their weapons abandoned after using them?" I kicked the pile, sending them scattering.

Anders made a choking sound from the opposite end of the ruins where we found the camp. We raced over to see Sigrun kneeling on the ground next to him, both of their faces grim. "What is it?" I asked him. He just pointed. "Blessed Andraste," I gasped, a hand over my mouth. There was a _pile_ of dead bodies tossed to the side of the camp. The rest of the Dalish, clearly. Even children were tossed among the corpses. No wonder the woman we met was half-mad.

"This place is scarred by pain," Justice said from behind us. I nodded, turning my back on the garish sight.

"These people seem different from the ones I've encountered," he said as we walked away.

I paused. Had he met elves before? Surely he had when we were in Amaranthine at some point. "The Dalish?" I asked, hoping for clarification.

"The body I inhabit was familiar with that name. The Dalish were… cast out? Unwelcome in almost every land? Why is that?"

"It's an old hate," I said, trying to explain the history behind it. I could recount every detail from my study of Ferelden history, but ancient was a bit out of my league. After covering the downfall of their homeland, the enslavement by Tevinter magisters and alliance with Andraste, and the Chantry's destruction of the dales, I explained that the dalish were elves who wouldn't submit to the laws making them inferior in human cities.

"How odd that mortals find so many differences to hate when you have so very much in common," he observed. "To one such as I it is difficult to even tell you apart. Are these similarities not worth rejoicing in?"

"I wish I had an answer for you, Justice. It confuses me as much as it does you, and I've always lived in this world. The one good thing about where I was raised is that we were always taught elven mages and human mages were no different."

"Well, to be fair," Anders interrupted, "we were taught human and elf mages were all equally evil."

"You're missing the point, Anders. We were treated equally horrible, but at least it was equal." I insisted. "This rivalry and mutual hatred everyone else has is pointless."

"And yet it happens anyhow," Justice said sadly. "But then, I do not even understand demons. My entire existence is spent seeking out wrongs to right."

"That's a noble goal," I said. "But there is more to you than that."

"Is there?"

"Sure," I said. "You obviously like reading, you enjoy looking at nature, you're interested in religion. Just because you have a goal or job doesn't mean it has to define every second of your existence, not while you're in this world." He seemed to be considering this. "I mean, look at us. We're all Grey Wardens, our goal is to fight darkspawn. But we're also people with our own interests and hobbies. I mean, just because my goal is to kill as many darkspawn as I can doesn't mean I can't also enjoy dancing, does it?"

"I still can't picture it," Nathaniel muttered.

"You'll have to excuse me if I don't break into a galliard right here to satisfy your curiosity, Nathaniel." I cast him a dirty look and he shrugged. "Anyway," I said, "we should start looking for a campsite soon. Tomorrow we can check that mine and see if it goes all the way to the deep roads. I'm not sensing any darkspawn here right now, but we'll need to be careful tonight." We had moved to the opposite side of the campsite, in an effort to distance ourselves from the bodies. Sigrun held up her hand, gesturing me to be quiet. She made a walking gesture and pointed. Trying to move as little as I could, I saw the elven woman standing over the bodies we had found. She was weeping.

I stood up and approached her, making sure my steps were noisy enough to be heard.

"You won't take me alive," she said as she turned to face me. Her tone didn't match the words, though. She sounded broken, not defiant.

I measured my response, keeping my voice level. "I'm not here to kill you."

She didn't seem to hear me, again insisting she wouldn't stand before a human magistrate. Only, well, she didn't say _human _exactly. I really didn't like that word.

"Um, technically," I began, "you already are." Her head snapped towards me. Maker, she even did her _hair_ like Morrigan. Bizarre. I crossed my arms over my torso and bowed briefly in salute as I introduced myself. "Margaret Amell, Warden Commander of Ferelden, Arlessa and liege lord of Amaranthine."

"Maker, I forget she has all those _titles_," Anders muttered behind me. I shushed him.

"I only want to talk," I insisted. She scoffed, but I went on. "Look, there has been a _horrible_ misunderstanding here. Something has happened to the darkspawn. They're changing, _evolving_. They can talk now, plan, plot. They've been pitting you and the merchants against each other. I don't know why, but they are. And, well, they _take prisoners _now."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Believe what you want, but I'm telling you the truth. Why would a Warden lie about darkspawn? They took more than a dozen of my men after staging an attack on our Keep, timed for just hours before I arrived to take charge. They wiped out the Legion of the Dead. Keep your head in the sand if you want, but I've no reason to lie about darkspawn, of all things."

"What about the weapons?"

"Do the Dalish typically throw away their blades after each use? I'm rather partial to my own, but I can't see anyone doing that. Besides," I added, "look at the ones on the bottom. Those aren't human make, they're darkspawn crafting. You can tell, they're horrid." She sat, considering what I told her.

"So the darkspawn took my sister?" Well, at least she was listening this time.

"Here," I tossed her an amulet we'd looted from a hurlock corpse. "Does this mean anything to you? I took it from a darkspawn we killed." That did it. She begged us to help find her sister. Since we were now on the same side, and she seemed at least a little repentant about her reaction, I agreed. We decided to share her camp for the evening after she offered, the only reasonable option at this point since it was far too dark to find and set up our own.

"Do you trust her?" Anders whispered later that night from a dead stranger's bed in an aravel.

"No," I admitted. "But she wants what we want now. She's powerful, but the two of us alone could take her if it came to that. All of us together and it wouldn't even be a real fight."

He was quiet after that. I wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep. "Anders?" I whispered.

"Hm?"

"Tell me if I'm being crazy or not."

"Crazy."

"I'm serious," I whispered. "It just hit me. What if this whole thing, the darkspawn turning them against each other, was a larger plan? It just feels wrong."

He went up on one elbow to see me better. "Maggie, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking…" I groaned, hoping and praying I was wrong. "I'm thinking it was to lure us here. Wardens."

"Like a trap?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "Crazy?"

"I hope so."

* * *

My head was pounding when I woke up. But, no… I had already gotten up. We got up, went to the mines and now… I was getting up again? _What happened?_ I thought, forcing myself to a seated position.

"Thanks for joining us, Maggie." Oghren's voice was the first I heard. Forcing my eyes open I took in the scene. We were in a cell of some kind, dressed in peasant clothing. _Oh maker, the darkspawn undressed us?_ I felt ill at the thought. I remembered waking, earlier, on a table. One of the darkspawn stood over me and apologized before I was unconscious again. Not a dream, then.

Anders was pacing the floor like a caged animal while Sigrun and Nathaniel sat, backs to the bars, talking quietly. Velenna was watching everyone, observing each of us in turn. When he saw I was awake Anders bolted to my side, helping me to my feet. I felt dizzy, and my arm was aching.

"We need to get out of here," he informed me, eyes wild, holding my hand hard enough that I could feel the bones grind together.

"My arm," was all I said, showing it to him.

"Your arm? But, you weren't hurt. We had just gotten up, I healed you yesterday."

"I know," I said. "I feel like I've lost blood, though. I'm dizzy." I looked up at him, trying to keep my own panic at bay in the face of his. "I think the darkspawn _did_ something to me." He pushed up my sleeve, revealing a strange looking health poultice.

"Stand still," he ordered, the panic fading from his eyes as he raised both hands to me. I felt warmth pouring off him. My arm tingled, and the dizziness subsided. "You did lose blood. Nothing else I can see wrong, just a lot of blood loss."

"Fantastic. Very creepy." He leaned over, touching his forehead to mine and embracing me. "We'll get out of here," I assured him. Anders gave me a distracted nod and resumed stalking from one side of the cell to the other. I walked over to the door and examined the lock, not expecting to see anything I could make sense of. "So, what have you tried so far?"

"Nothing," Nathaniel spoke up. "We were all in here, but you were missing. They must have put us to sleep again since when we all woke up you were back, but unconscious."

"Oh good, I got special attention," I muttered. "I am taking a nine hour bath when we get home. In boiling water." I tried the door, it was locked. No shock there.

"We did try _that_, Maggie," Sigrun said, sounding amused. How could she be amused, we were in a _cage!_

I started pacing, trying to think of a way out. We had no equipment, no armor, no weapons, they'd even taken our robes. And we were in a cage. An actual barred walls cage. This was just like Fort Drakon. No, this was _worse. _At least in Fort Drakon they didn't perform experiments on me, my captors were people, not darkspawn. I resisted the urge to scream.

Velenna finally spoke up. "What do you _humans_ do to your mages? They both look like condemned animals stalking the floor!" I forced myself to stand still. I could see Anders doing the same.

"Conversation for another day, Velenna. We need to get out of here." I examined the lock again. "Anders, I need your help. Velenna, you too." They both came over. "You can both conjure stone, right?" Nods. Good. "OK, well, since we have no weapons, we're going to hit that lock with as much stone as we can, for as long as we can, until it busts open."

"We should go one at a time," Anders suggested. "Wouldn't do any good to have the stones chipping off on each other." He went first, followed by Velenna. I ran over to the door as soon as I finished casting. It rattled slightly in the frame, looser than it had been.

"It's working!"

"Aren't they going to hear us?" Nathaniel asked.

"They might," I said, casting another stone projectile. "But I'm pretty sure they already know we're here. If they show up and open the door we just get out that much faster." I cast another spell. "I don't plan to die in some darkspawn's lair. Well, not today anyways."

The others chuckled at this, of all the things. Velenna only looked confused.

Finally, the door popped open. "About damned time," I said, walking out of the cell. A young blond elf ran into the room just as we were looking around for some kind of weapons. It turned out to be Velenna's sister. I could feel the darkspawn taint rolling off her in waves, patches of corruption were already visible on her face. I had no idea how she was even speaking rationally. The level of corruption in her was almost as severe as that of a full darkspawn. I didn't know how she managed to remain coherent, but she had brought us the key of all things, and told us where our property could be found. I tried to question her further, at least to find out if anything had been done to me, but she ran off.

"That seemed… strange," Sigrun observed after she had left. I agreed. She was in full splitmail, and clearly not a prisoner.

"Did you notice what she called him?" I asked her, hoping Velenna couldn't hear us.

"She called him 'the emissary,' but it sounded like she was going to say something else, and changed her mind."

I wasn't the only one who noticed it, then. "So, do darkspawn have first names? Was that it?" She didn't know any more than I did.

After fighting our way through several rooms, first with magic and fists, and then eventually with weapons looted from the darkspawn, we came upon more tainted people. The first was a dwarf, dressed entirely in Oghren's armor. "No one touches Oghren's junk and lives," he bellowed, and Sigrun howled in laughter. I was beginning to wonder how sane we would be after this day. One by one, we recovered our clothes and equipment from more of the strange tainted people wandering through the mine. _Were they going to do that to us_, I wondered in horror as I pulled my robe over my head, using the rough clothing I had woken up in to wipe corrupted filth from my weapons and staff.

I tried to sense darkspawn nearby. I was picking up a nearby source of taint, but it seemed off. Closer to Warden, if I had to guess a source. I guided everyone down a narrow passage to investigate. A man in leathers was on the ground, seriously injured. I dropped to kneel beside him gesturing for Anders to do what he could. He was one of the captured Wardens from Orlais, the last survivor. Begging me to deliver his wedding ring to his wife, I resisted, telling him we would bring her husband home instead. Anders caught my eye and shook his head quickly, his face grim. Accepting the ring we stayed with the man for a few moments, until he was gone.

"I'm not a cruel person," I said, more to myself than anyone else, as we left. "But I plan to make this Architect bastard _suffer_." No one disagreed, thankfully.

Reaching what seemed to be a perfectly normal bedroom, I froze. Why would something like this be in a lair of darkspawn. There were robes, a bed, bookshelves. _Maker, can they read_? I thought, numb with horror. Even worse, there was a diary. It was the Architect's room, and he could both read and write. It talked of Velenna's sister, a bond she had forged with her guard, and her willing cooperation. I passed the paperwork onto her, watching her face pale as she read.

"Maggie," Anders said from behind me, "the darkspawn has a bigger room than I do."

"If you ask nice maybe he'll trade!" I replied.

"No thank you. I prefer the neighbors I have now."

A Quinari trader was in the next room. I stopped mid step and gaped at him, wondering if I'd lost my mind. "Are- are you a quinari?" I asked him, wondering if the hallucination would answer.

"I'm Tal'Vashoth," he replied, as though that explained why he was there. I remembered the phrase from Sten, a quinari who didn't follow their belief system. I don't think the next step was 'collaborating with evil incarnate,' though.

"You trade with the _darkspawn?!"_

"They pay me, we have an arrangement. You shouldn't be here."

I looked at the others, confirming they were seeing him, too. Oghren had discovered a chest with the rest of our possessions and was happily packing everything up, the others were watching me, but not in the way one would watch a woman conversing with a phantom. I guess he was real.

"Yeah, I'm hoping I can fix that being here thing very soon. Why do you trade with the darkspawn, what if you get tainted?" He insisted they promised his safety, but didn't look particularly confident. Impulsively, I asked him "Why not trade at Vigil's Keep instead?"

"The Warden outpost?" he confirmed. I nodded. "Very well. If you survive this place I will see you there."

Shaking my head we pressed forward. The room contained a balcony where Velenna's sister and an even more corrupted dwarven woman stood with the emissary who had apologized to me when I was on a table. The fabled Architect, at last.

He shared a _glance_ with the elven woman and I shuddered. Sigrun caught my eye and made a disgusted face. The expression she gave him wasn't a casual glance by any stretch, and even that wouldn't be something a normal person would cast at a darkspawn. Velenna looked horrified. I couldn't blame her.

Before we could look for a way to attack them he raised his hand and two small dragons landed near us. "Wings first," I called out, annoyance in my voice. We killed a high dragon just weeks ago in blackmarsh, and these things were barely larger than a common drake. Did he think that little of the Wardens? I suppose I shouldn't complain, better that than a high dragon and a room full of emissaries.

Dragons defeated, I turned back to the Architect. He looked strangely sad, turning his back to us and leading both women into a tunnel. I heard Sigrun gasp as he put his arm around the shoulder of the blond elf. If she hadn't reacted I would have assumed I imagined the whole thing. The tunnel collapsed behind them, leaving us no way to follow. We took a side door, which, thankfully, led to open air and sunshine.

I stretched out on the ground, only feet from the entrance of the mine. Muttering a brief prayer of thanks, I looked to the sky. "That is the second time I've woken up in a cell. Just once was bad enough." Food was passed around and we ate in relative silence. "Does anyone know how long we were in there? How long we were unconscious?"

"At least a day," Nathaniel suggested. "It's early afternoon now, we went in the mine in the early morning. We were conscious for far too long for it to be the same day." He rubbed his face. "I'd guess we were out for close to three days, if my beard is any indication." I looked more closely at the men and, sure enough, they all had several days of hair on their faces.

Velenna broke her silence, looking at me. "Make me a Grey Warden so I can find my sister," she demanded.

I raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't work that way, Velenna. It's not a spell I can teach you or a skill I can pass on."

"But you can sense the darkspawn. If I could do that I could find her."

"You think it's some trick we can do? Becoming a Warden is for life, it's a _host_ of physical and mental changes, not _just_ being able to sense darkspawn, and it's not something we put people through so they can leave the order and go on a quest of their own. Besides, sensing them can take months to even develop, and years to train to accuracy." This was true, I was still the only one of our group who could sense them with any detail. I looked at the others who were all carefully avoiding getting pulled into the conversation.

She was still insistent. I groaned. There was no way to explain how crazy her request was without revealing too much.

"Look, we have a common enemy. Stay with us, work with us now, and we'll find the Architect and kill him. Believe me, I'm looking forward to that. If you decide you want to leave your clan and become a Warden after that is done, we can talk again."

She grudgingly agreed. "There is one more thing," I said. "About your sister."

"Look," she snapped, "I know, I saw her with that _thing_, I'm not blind. Something's going on, and it's unnatural. They did something to her mind, that's why I must save her!"

"Well, there is that, but I wasn't thinking of it now." _Or ever again if I'm lucky,_ I added silently. "You saw the marks on her face, like bruises, yes?" Suddenly the other Wardens had decided to start paying attention to me. They saw the same thing, but they knew what it meant.

"And her arms as well. They're torturing her."

"Not exactly, no. I mean, they may be, but those aren't really bruises. It's- It's the corruption. She's infected with the darkspawn plague. I could sense it in her."

"How much time do we have?" Velenna asked me, horrified. I shook my head.

"I'm sorry. She's just too far along. Sometimes, if you catch it soon, we can put someone through the Joining and that will suppress it. But those are cases without any outward signs yet, usually within hours or days of exposure."

"You're telling me she's going to die, even if we find her?"

"I'm very sorry," I told her. I prayed silently that she _would_ die. The alternative was so much worse, but I didn't have the heart to tell Velenna that.

Velenna was silent for a while. When she spoke again it was to say "All the more reason for me to want that fiend dead!"

* * *

_A/N: I was really debating doing a whole buzz off thing with Velenna, I just didn't much care for her. Happy happy since I'll be done with the in-game story in a couple chapters and can move on to where I really want to go with this. :D_

_I'm also really loathing the title of this. Any suggestions for a new one? I suck with titles.  
_


	22. Perfect mindset for entering a Chantry

It took twice as long for us to reach home since Anders would demand we stop and rest every few hours, making me lie in the grass while he attempted another round of healing spells. I refused once, anxious to be back at the Keep, but started stumbling on the road not long after. He stared at me, triumphant, and repeated his order for rest.

"Maggie," he said, passing me a water skin, "you may be the Commander, but you are the _worst_ healer I've ever seen."

"More sweet nothings?" I made a face at him. "Your flattery needs work."

"Hey, I can be serious sometimes." I sighed and let him go on. "You are the worst harrowed healer, perhaps ever, while I've often been told I'm the best healer seen in a generation, since my own mentor."

"Was it Wynne," I guessed.

"Yes, and no, we can't stand each other. Stop changing the subject." I made a face. "You lost a lot of blood. I don't even know how you managed to wake up on your own honestly, but I'm too relieved to question it." He pointed at me then, looking stern. "I would never question your orders normally, but when it comes to anyone's health you have to listen to me. Now drink all that water and when I say we have to stop and rest you have to actually stop and rest." He was right, of course. Healers were trained in more than just the basic spells, if Anders didn't have a reputation for running away he could have had his pick of personal physician jobs for any noble in the country.

Wasn't going to keep me from teasing him, though.

I emptied the waterskin. "You know, right now… you kind of remind me of Wynne."

"Don't you dare…"

"Lectures on the importance of my duty next?"

"Maggie…"

"Going to call me childish for wanting to hear about griffins instead of made up philosophical battles?"

"Maggie!"

"oooh, or will you tell me I demean both myself and the entire order of Grey Wardens by taking time out from fighting a blight and singlehandedly restoring honor to the order in Ferelden to occasionally have sex? I think that was my _favorite_ Wynne lecture."

"Mag- Wait, _what_?"

I giggled, exhausted. "She didn't approve of me being involved with, well, anyone I suspect, but Zevran in particular. It was such a strange conversation. First she went on about the wisdom of a Grey Warden being involved with someone who was so clearly interested in 'just one thing.' It was funny since at the time I wasn't interested in anything beyond that, either." He made a face, for a moment looking almost jealous. "Knock it off; I didn't even _know_ you then, and you're not exactly a paragon of chastity."

"Then," I went on, "she starts talking about how selfish love is, and asking what I'll do if I have to pick ending the blight or him. My jaw dropped so far I could have tripped on it. Love? Selfish? I wouldn't even trust the bastard to sleep in the same tent as me yet!"

"Wait, you mean, you just kicked him out after?" I nodded. "oooh, you're cold."

"Well, to be fair, this was perhaps two weeks after he'd tried to _kill me_. My concern was justified."

"I'd say so. What even possessed you to think that was a good idea?"

I reached up to tug on his ponytail. "What can I say, long blond hair makes me soft in the brain. Plus, I was absolutely convinced I could die at any given moment, and determined to enjoy myself at least a little bit before some genlock or Loghain lackey chopped off my head."

"Well, I'm never cutting my hair," Anders said. "I suppose I can't judge, I even seduced a templar to escape once."

"Seduced a templar?" I asked after a moment, a grin forming.

"Yep. It never occurred to me that she would take the bait and _still_ bring me back in. I've never felt so used. I mean, a _templar._" He mock-shuddered. "I almost wonder if she was hoping for a repeat, and that's why she got so mad when you conscripted me."

"You seduced _Ser Rylock?!_ How did you manage that? The woman didn't exactly seem like one to bend the rules."

"I'll have you know I can be quite charming," he protested, "and once I decided to keep my eyes closed I managed to rise to the occasion. I just thought about a cute apprentice who winked at me once." I didn't know if I was supposed to be flattered or disturbed by that. Or if he was making it up just to tease me. The latter was perhaps the most likely.

"Maybe she shares your appreciation for a nice haircut." He paused for a moment, smiling. "Ohh, maybe she got mad because she was jealous. Of you!" I cast him a dubious glance but he went on, too enthralled with the story he was creating. "Yes… she was jealous of you so she planted a trap for me, trying to get me back. And then you killed her to keep me with you! Rather brutally, at that, so perhaps you were a bit jealous yourself." Anders stretched out on the grass, smiling at his vision of a Ferelden where women battled to the death over him.

I suppose technically I did kill her to keep him with me, although I was thinking of him as a Warden at the time. The Maker knows I never, in a million years, would have attributed it to any bizarre templar-mage romantic rivalry. But, if that made him happier than knowing she was just the unlucky brunt of twenty years of anger from the tower, and a burning desire to defend the Wardens at all costs, I wouldn't bother ripping the fantasy away.

When we finally arrived home I had Varel set up quarters for Velenna near our own once I had gotten over the shock of finding out we were imprisoned for nearly a week. "She wants to be a Warden," I told him quietly, "but doesn't know what it means. Let her hear us screaming in the night." He gave me a conspiratorial nod.

I wanted to go straight to my room, burn my robe, and scrub the filth of darkspawn off my skin, but work came first, as always. I told Varel of our adventure, his face growing paler with every word. He agreed to send out scouts to find another entrance to the tunnel the Architect had used.

I finally made it to my room after a few more errands. Anders was sprawled across my turned-down bed in his nightclothes, freshly shaved with wet hair and largely ignoring a book in favor of playing with Ser Pounce-a-lot. "I had some terrified servant draw you a bath, but it may need to be reheated. I don't think she expected to find me in here."

I laughed, dropping clothes as I walked behind the screens. "All the servants are terrified here. I don't know if they think we're prissy nobles who will have them flogged for looking at us, or if they expect us to turn them into toads."

He laughed. I couldn't see him through the bath screen, but could imagine his expression. "I've never met anyone who could turn someone into a toad, have you?"

"Nope. Not even a witch of the wilds I knew could, although she did like to use it as a threat."

He fell silent after that and I focused on scrubbing any trace of the darkspawn from myself. Eventually I had to give up, as I was nearing the point of washing my own skin away in the effort. Once I got out of the tub I realized Anders had fallen asleep, the kitten nestled into his arms. I carefully climbed on the bed, covering us both before I joined him in the Fade.

* * *

"Do you all enjoy making guests feel unwelcome," Velenna snapped over breakfast.

"What are you talking about? Was something wrong with your room?"

"Only that it is surrounded by people who feel the need to scream all night." She cast a pointed look at me, "and moan all morning." I blushed. Anders and I had decided to make up for falling asleep so early after we woke.

"Sorry, nightmares are a Warden thing. I can't say more." I shrugged, deciding to ignore the second half of her comment while helping myself to several biscuits and a liberal serving of sausage gravy. Everyone else was wolfing down their food quickly. I grabbed another biscuit before they were gone.

"Is eating like a pigs a Warden trait as well?"

"If you were as hungry as we are you'd eat this way, too." Anders felt the need to punctuate my statement by stealing a biscuit off my plate, finishing it in two bites. I restrained myself from trying to grab it back from him, the urge to stab him with a fork also passing through my mind briefly and being discarded. "I think pig is a bit of an exaggeration, though."

"You have gravy on your _nose_, Commander," Valenna replied. All right, maybe pig wasn't too far off. This was why I usually showed up at the royal parties _after_ dinner.

"Andraste's ass," I muttered, wiping my face. Once breakfast had been devoured everyone looked at me. "What?" I asked.

"Just wondering what slime filled pit we get to stomp around in today, Mags," Oghren replied.

"Scouts are looking for where that mine might end up; they won't be back for a couple days. Until then there isn't much we can do. I'm headed into the city today, I need to let the merchant guild know they can cross the woods safely again and close up a few loose ends. Anyone who wants can join us, but the day is yours otherwise."

Nathaniel decided to join me, hoping to speak with his sister. Justice wanted to look for Kristoff's wife. She had been less than pleased with the status of her husband's body, not that I could blame her. He was hoping to offer her some degree of peace.

Sigrun wanted to stay back and go through the Keep's library, Oghren decided to do some 'serious drinking,' and Velenna said she was uninterested in seeing a human city. Judging by how she paled and flinched when I mentioned the merchant guild I suspected avoiding them was closer to her real reason.

I slipped my cowl on as I walked towards the stables. "The white horse is mine, you can each take your pick of the others."

"Did you name your horse?" Anders asked me.

"No, Alistair did before he gave her to me. She's named Griffin, but I suspect I would have picked the same thing myself."

"A Grey Warden with a horse named Griffin. Do you also want a mabari named Dane?"

Well, maybe it was a little predictable. I suppose I deserved that. "I _had_ a mabari named Dane. Poor thing died after the archdemon battle. He was tainted, so I tried to save him by making him a Warden. He didn't survive the Joining."

"You tried to put your _dog_ through the Joining?"

"Why not? He was easily twice as smart as a knight who went through it at the same time as me. Poor Dane." I sighed, remembering the way Dane would wag his tail hard enough to shake his whole lower body whenever I gave him bones, and how he slept at the opening of my tent every night, growling at anyone who walked too close. He even bit Zevran once. I should build a statue to that beautiful dog. "Where did you learn to ride a horse?" I asked him, changing the subject.

"First time I escaped. I happened to come across Bann Ferrenly being attacked by bandits and jumped in to help. He gave me a horse as a thank you gift." He pulled an amulet from the collar of his robes. "And this as well. Nice fellow."

We set out for the city. As I expected, Nathaniel was the finest rider of the group, he constantly had to slow his horse so we could catch up. Justice, once he realized he could rely on Kristoff's memories, was almost as good. Anders and I contented ourselves with falling behind, just happy not to fall off.

Once our horses were secured with the guards at the gates Nathaniel left to meet with his sister, asking us to collect him from her house before returning home. Justice headed for the Chantry to look for Kristoff's wife, and Anders followed me on my errands, first to the merchant guild, and then to the inn to look for Nida, the wife of the Warden we found dying in the Architect's lair.

Half an hour later Anders was dragging me from the inn as I cursed and struggled against him. "How aren't you upset?" I demanded as he shoved me onto a bench.

"I am upset, Maggie, but that doesn't mean I'm going to call a recent widow a harpy and threaten to gut her!"

"His last thoughts were of her, even after all he went through. And here she is, not even wondering where he's been, sleeping with some oafish barfly!"

"Well, I suppose we can be grateful he went to his grave not knowing," Anders said, although I suspect he was clutching for any reason to calm me down. I shrugged free of his grasp, curling and uncurling my fists. Anders patted my arm, trying to be reassuring. "Hey, at least if one of us gets captured the other will be right there with matching manacles."

"That is a highly disturbing thought, Anders. We _were_ captured. Just last week, in fact. It was horrible, and both of us went half mad before we even made it from the cell."

"And we got out! But I didn't have to worry about where you were since I was there too. That's me, always looking on the bright side."

"Very reassuring," I told him. "Come on, let's go see how Justice is doing. The longer I sit here the longer I want to run back inside and see if I can make that bitch cry."

"The perfect mindset for entering a Chantry."

The Revered Mother was reading to a small group when we entered. Not seeing Justice, Anders and I took seats to wait for him. I listened to the Chant, it was a passage most Wardens were familiar with- the story of the Tevinter mages who violated the Maker's home, becoming the first darkspawn. When she looked up to survey the audience and saw us a strange expression filtered across the priest's face. It didn't take long to discover why. Instead of continuing with the Canticle of Threnodies and the story of the first blight as everyone expected she flipped pages of her book, suddenly changing to the Canticle of Transfigurations.

_"These truths the Maker has revealed to me: As there is but one world, one life, one death, there is but one god, and He is our Maker. They are sinners, who have given their love to false gods."_

There were several gasps, and most of the people who had been paying attention were now looking around, confused by her sudden change. Several heads turned to stare at us. "Fantastic," Anders whispered. "She must be a fan of ours."

"Let's just wait outside," I replied, matching his hushed volume. "I can't stand to hear this again." He stood up, offering me a hand. I took it and we walked towards the exit at the back of the Chantry. The priest's voice was increasing in volume, as though she wanted to make sure we could hear her even if we made it to the doors.

_"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. Foul and corrupt are they who have taken His gift and turned it against His children. They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones. They shall find no rest in this world or beyond."_

I felt Anders tense. I froze mid-step, but he just said "keep walking," taking his hand from mine and putting it on my back to urge me forward. The Revered Mother actually repeated the passage once more before we made it to the doors, as though we couldn't hear her the first time. Or, perhaps, to make sure we knew she read it for our benefit.

"Don't let the old bitch get to you," Anders said as we sat on a bench outside, sounding exactly like someone who had let her get to him. "A lifetime of celibacy is bound to make anyone bitter and hateful. See what I've saved you from?"

"She had to go out of her way to make sure we knew we weren't welcome." I sighed, looking at the doors. "What kind of person makes someone feel unwelcome in a _Chantry_? I was so tempted to freeze her where she stood."

"Good thing you didn't, or I'm sure our afternoon would have become a lot more exciting, and not in a fun no clothes kind of way. I'm sure to her it was a joke. She clearly has a very unique and sparkling personality that only appears to be that of a heartless bitch if you don't know her."

"I never asked to be born this way."

"Believe me fellow mage, I understand completely," Anders said, taking my hand again. "Do you ever wonder what your life would have been if you weren't?"

"Sometimes," I said. A thought hit me and I laughed bitterly. "Ironically, if I wasn't a mage, I'd likely be dead now. I don't remember much since I was young, but I know my parents were freeholders in West Hill. The entire area was all but destroyed by the blight. I guess that means my parents are probably dead."

"You don't know that, you could look for them."

"I don't even know their names," I said with a shrug, "and I doubt they'd want to meet me. When I started showing signs they called me a monster and locked me in my room until the templars came. Who knows, though? Maybe now that I've saved the world I'm not such a disappointment." I looked over at Anders, "what about you?"

"I'm from Gwaren. I never knew my father, but my mother said he fought in the rebel army. Maybe she met him when King Maric liberated the city. The timing would certainly work out. I don't know, though, that isn't exactly something you tell a small child. When I was eight or nine she married a smith. He was a good man; he always treated me as if I was his actual son, not just his wife's youthful indiscretion. He even knew I was already showing signs at the time, and helped my mother keep me hidden. If I hadn't been a mage, or been caught, I suppose I would have learned that from him."

"Did you ever go back?"

His shoulders slumped further. "My first time out I did. It was too late. They had both died of the plague a couple summers earlier."

"I'm sorry, Anders."

"Thank you," he said, squeezing my hand, his voice thick. "How did they discover you," he asked a moment later, clearly looking for new topic.

"A boy from one of the nearby freeholds was always tormenting me. He'd pull my hair and try to put dirt down my blouse. One day he tried to push me off a hill into a pond. I was so worried my mother would scream at me if I came home wet and filthy, but it didn't matter since the water was frozen solid when I hit it."

"A whole pond?"

"Well, it was a _very_ small pond. More of an extremely large long-term puddle. How'd you get caught?"

"A rat got into our house when I was little. My mother was screaming, and all I could think was that I wanted to be big and strong enough to get rid of it for her. Next thing I knew I hit it with lightning. She helped me hide it for six years. But, when I was twelve I had fallen completely in love with a girl from down the street. You know how it is at that age."

I really didn't, since I'd been in the tower long enough at that age to forget how normal people behaved, but I didn't want to say anything. He went on with his story. "She ended up picking someone else, and he stopped me one afternoon to gloat. He called me a bastard and I punched him, but when he called my mother a whore a bolt of lightning knocked him halfway down the block. They didn't even wait for the Circle to send someone; the Revered Mother had a couple of the Chantry templars take me in that afternoon."

I giggled. It was a surprisingly adorable story, the young Anders defending his mother's honor. I wondered what kind of person he'd be if he had been left alone, if the sarcasm and anger was a part of him, or a gift of the tower. I wondered what I would have been like if I'd had a normal life, for that matter. Not that we could do anything about it now.

We sat quietly on the bench, ignoring the curious glances. I'm sure two mages doing their best "I'm the most miserable sod alive" impressions wasn't a typical sight in Amaranthine. A shadow fell across us and I looked up to see a young woman in priest robes staring at me curiously.

"Excuse me," she said, voice nervous, "are you the Warden?"

Well that wasn't something I expected. "Um, yes?" I said slowly. "I mean, we're both Wardens. Is there something you need?" _Warden, save my kitten from darkspawn bandits!_ I thought crazily, fighting the urge to giggle. People only want to meet me when they need assistance with some gruesome task.

"But you're the one they call the Hero of Ferelden, right?"

I suppressed a wince and reminded myself to hit Alistair again for that title the next time I saw him. He decided on it when he was still mad about my sparing Loghain, and picked it specifically because of the similarities to the Hero of River Dane's own absurd moniker. "Yes, I guess that would be me."

"Oh good!" she exclaimed, dropping to a kneeling position in front of us so we were eye level. "I heard you were in the arling, I've been hoping to find you!"

"I'm sorry, have we met?" I didn't recognize her, but then, I don't think anyone would expect me to recognize every person I'd met over the last three years.

"No, we haven't, but I want to thank you. My family lives in Redcliffe. You saved their lives! My mother watched from the Chantry windows while you fought off the monsters. Said it was like seeing Andraste herself come to life." I tried not to choke. That may have marked the first time in a thousand years someone favorably compared a mage to Andraste. I could just imagine the expression on the Grand Cleric's face.

"You don't need to thank me, I only did what had to be done. Anyone with the skill would have done the same."

"Don't tell me you're more idealistic than a Chantry sister," she giggled. All right, perhaps not _anyone_ would have. Anyone who wasn't a complete monster would have, though.

"My brother fought with the Arl's forces, in Denerim at the last battle," she went on. "He said you saved all the elves of the alienage even though they were willing to throw themselves in the darkspawn's line to help you." _See,_ I thought, _this is how insane legends start._ The truth was, the elves were ready to fight the darkspawn- with horrible weapons and no armor at all- until we arrived. They just hadn't expected anyone to bother trying to help them and were preparing for the worst. Shianni all but cried with relief when I told her to get everyone to safety.

"That's not _exactly_ how it happened," I protested, but the initiate shook her head, not wanting to hear my arguments. Anders snickered next to me.

"I saw what happened in the Chantry," the sister went on, dropping her voice to a whisper. "The Revered Mother is half in the grave and meaner by the year. She's cruel to everyone, don't take it personally. Just last week a man came for help feeding his children, she refused because he wasn't making his tithes!" I gasped.

"If he couldn't afford _bread_ wouldn't giving what money he did have to the Chantry while his family starves be a bit irresponsible?" Anders asked, shaking his head. "Where is he now? I've been hungry before, I wouldn't wish that on children." I nodded in agreement, and she provided us with the address.

The three of us rose to our feet. "Will you accept the Maker's blessing?" I nodded, going to one knee. After a moment Anders did the same. She raised a hand over us and recited. "_Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written._"

"Thank you," I said, rising to my feet. We left the chantry and headed over to the market district, buying a sovereigns worth of food before heading to the address the sister had given us. The man gratefully accepted the food, wide eyed children staring from behind his wife's skirt. "What was your trade?" I asked him. He explained he had been a soldier for Howe, and lost his position when he refused to attack Castle Highever. Anders and I shared a glance.

"We do need more men," Anders pointed out. I nodded.

"Go to Vigil's Keep and tell a man named Captain Garevel you were sent by the Warden Commander to return to duty. Have him speak to me if he has questions."

"You know," Anders said cheerfully as we passed through the market, "it's a pretty sad day when the local maleficar is nicer than the Revered Mother."

* * *

_A/N: No clue what Bann Ferrenly is Bann of, he never appears in the books or the game that I can recall. But the description of Anders' amulet he wears when you recruit him with says that's who gave it to him in exchange for saving his life. _

_Hooray for more Chant of Light. I'm figuring a lot of mages are oddly religious since they were brought up surrounded by so much of it. I love working the elaborate mythology and history Bioware created into this._

_The Maker loves all who review. ;)  
_


	23. Maybe next year they’ll learn to fly

Anders and I had, just barely, managed to intercept Justice before he could speak to the Revered Mother on our behalf. Apparently he decided my off the cuff 'please don't think we're completely bereft of morals' excuse of mages not being able to get married implied that we were, in actuality, desperately wishing to get married. After a good deal of stuttering and blushing we managed to explain to him that marriage was not generally undertaken by people who had only known each other two months. That humiliation past us, we collected Nathaniel and returned home.

"Commander," Velenna called me over after our return.

"Please, just Maggie. We're not an army, rank is mostly ceremonial."

She nodded. "All right, Maggie. The dwarf has told me much about you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really? Which one?"

"Oghren. I must say, I'm surprised." I wondered which stories Oghren decided to share, remembering his goal of 'serious drinking' for the day. "I had assumed you were a typical sheml-" she blushed. "A typical human, he corrected me."

"A typical human?" I asked her. I wasn't sure what that could mean, she already knew I was a mage, that alone made me anything but typical.

"Prejudiced. I assumed it of you, when the fault was my own. He said you pushed to give the elves in Denerim political representation, and that the land granted to the wandering clans in the south was your idea as well."

"Neither was my idea. I fought with King Alistair, back when he was just Warden Alistair. He saw the way slavers decimated the alienage, same as I did. I mentioned if they had a Bann of their own that wouldn't have happened, he just remembered it when he had the power to make things right. As for the land, well, I was offered a boon in exchange for my service. I said the boon should go to our allies who fought and died with us. It was the King, or perhaps Chancellor Eamon, who decided the boon would take the form of land for the Dalish, more freedom for the mages, and aid reclaiming the deep roads for the dwarves." Again with the overblown stories. If I told someone I didn't agree with stabbing babies people would say I was the reason babies were no longer stabbed every day!

"Never the less, you have proven yourself a friend to my people, while you are not one of us. Why?"

I gestured to the staff on my back, still cringing from the afternoon at the Chantry. "I'm hated and feared because of something I can't help; I spent most of my life a prisoner because of it. Let's say I can sympathize."

"That was your… Circle? The one Anders repeatedly escaped? Oghren told me about that, but he suggested I shouldn't bring it up to either of you."

I laughed. "He would. Yeah, talking about it is a danger unless you have a lot of time to listen to us rant."

"Strange. Among my people magic is seen as a blessing, a gift showing you are favored by the creators."

"I've heard that before. Keeper Lanaya told me the same thing. I must say, it made me wish I had been born Dalish."

Now it was her turn to laugh. "I never expected to hear a human admit to _that_!" She leaned towards me, pitching her voice lower. "Your friend Oghren, he shares many things he shouldn't while drinking. I know much more of what it is to be a Warden now." I had to have a chat with Oghren. He could drink as much as he wanted, but not if it made him gossip about the secrets of the order. Velanna must have seen the anger on my face. "He was only trying to make me understand why you were resistant to my joining. I do, now. I still want to, though, if you'll have me."

I looked over at her. She was completely serious. "If this is the life you're willing to accept, we can do the Joining tomorrow morning." She thanked me and bid me goodnight.

* * *

"Strange," I muttered the next morning, rolling over in bed.

"Hmmm?" Anders groaned, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Just, waking up here." I sat up and stretched. "I spent, hm, four years living in a house with my parents, nineteen or so at the tower, and a year at the palace. But for the last three years when I get up I'm confused to see anything that isn't my tent around me."

"Huh. When I wake up I always expect to be back in the tower, and then I have to remind myself I'll never have to go back."

"No wonder you're such a morning person."

"There are worse things to be. You always seem to get up in a good mood when we're on the road, though. That's strange."

"Is it? I like having things to do. After a while I miss a real bed and a hot bath, but I'd rip my hair out if we sat around the keep all day doing whatever it is nobles do."

"You're not having fun unless there's a chance for someone to kill you, apparently. Sometimes your stories of the blight make it sound like one big two-year long party."

"We had our fun." I laughed, remembering how entertaining just being at camp could be some nights, with Leliana singing, Zevran and I dancing, Oghren telling stories that made Alistair's ears blush, and everyone sharing drinks. "Well, at the time I thought it was horrible. I got a sunburn the first day out of the tower, and it lasted two years. I don't think a day went by where I wasn't injured or recovering from a serious injury. I've broken more bones than I knew I _had _and I've had things I didn't even believe existed try to kill me. All with a sunburn."

"Like what?"

"You know the legend of Flemeth?" I asked him. He nodded. "Her for one. She can apparently shapeshift into a high dragon. Or could, before we killed her."

"You killed _Flemeth?_ The Flemeth? Of Flemeth and Conobar?"

"Her daughter, Morrigan, asked me to. At the time I thought we were friends. Apparently Flemeth extended her life by taking over her daughter's bodies one by one over the years. Or so Morrigan said, although now I wonder how much she told me was true; she managed to prove her motives were never entirely honest at the end of things." I shook my head briefly, as if that would dispel the lingering anger. "Flemeth saved Alistair and I after Ostagar. I hate to think we killed her because her conniving daughter lied, but I worry about it often."

"Morrigan was Flemeth's daughter? The Morrigan you traveled with? What did she do, anyways? You and Oghren both talk about her like she's evil incarnate."

"She joined us, right from the beginning, to stop the blight. Her mother sent her, but she stayed of her own will. We became friends. We talked often, shared spells, even gossiped. She understood why I hated the Circle when no one else did, or would. She called me her sister."

"So what happened?"

"Turns out she knew more about the Wardens than I did, and not with good reason. I didn't know how the archdemon was killed. I didn't know _anything_. Everything I told you the morning after your Joining I found out slowly over two years, either because Alistair would 'forget' to let me in on it, or because he didn't know himself. I'd been a Warden for a _day_ when the order was wiped out and Alistair for six months. Before the battle we were the two most junior members in the country."

Anders gasped slightly at that. "You know, I'd managed to piece that together from what you've told me, but to hear it spelled out is something else. It must have been horrifying."

I nodded. "Before the Landsmeet we rescued a man named Riordan from Howe's dungeons, he was a senior Orlesian Warden, and I was _so thrilled_ that finally someone who had the slightest idea of what to do was with us. I decided then and there if he said jump I would say 'how high, ser,' since I had absolutely no clue, and had managed so far on luck alone."

"Makes sense to me. I'd do the same."

"Exactly! That's why I conscripted Loghain even though Alistair stopped talking to me for months over it- Riordan said we should. Neither of us knew everything, and I thought there had to be a good reason. Then I found out, after Alistair said we were on our own, about how an archdemon is killed. So I just learned I've got about a thirty percent chance of dying the next day and I've traded one of my best friends for a guy who spent the last two years trying to kill me. I get back to my room and Morrigan's standing there waiting."

I was trying to focus my mind, I had been getting off track. Dropping back to the bed I pulled the blankets up and shivered, rolling on my side to face Anders.

"She told me she had a way out, a way to make sure I wouldn't die making the final blow. I asked her how she knew, and why she never told me, but she just waved her hand like it was nothing!"

"You're kidding? All that time and she never told you? No wonder you were mad."

"That wasn't the worst of it. Morrigan tells me I have to convince _Loghain_ of all people to sleep with her."

"Strange time for matchmaking."

"She didn't want him specifically. If it was Alistair she would have asked me to convince him. She just needed one male Warden, not terribly tainted yet. She was going to use magic to ensure she got pregnant."

"Huh, and I'd only used magic to ensure the opposite." I snickered and he looked at me. "I thought a Warden couldn't have children?"

I shrugged. "It's next to impossible. You'd have to be very soon after the Joining, no more than a few years, and the other parent has to be untainted. But even then it's unlikely. She needed magic to make sure."

"All right, I was a little worried for a moment."

"Aw, don't want a baby mage running through the Keep?" He stuck his tongue out at me. "Don't worry, there has never been a case of two Wardens having a child together. Even getting pregnant has only happened a handful of times, and it never takes."

"Thank the Maker. Uh, no offense."

"None taken, I'm in complete agreement." He relaxed and I went on. "Morrigan tells me that when the archdemon dies, instead of killing the Warden, the old god's spirit will seek out the tainted child instead. It would have been born with the soul of an old god."

"Andraste's sword, you're kidding me? That's a horrible plan!"

"That's what I told her. You know what darkspawn do between blights? They dig for the old gods. They're as drawn to them as they are to Wardens. This child would be _both_. It would be like a great big beacon for them!"

"And when they find the old gods…"

I nodded, shuddering. "You know what made killing the archdemon easy? In a city filled with darkspawn it was an enormous flying _dragon_. Kind of stands out that way. Imagine if it was just another normal-looking darkspawn, like a tainted human? They could hide it, we would never find it, we wouldn't stand a chance."

"Makers's breath…"

"I told her all that and she didn't even listen. Either she didn't believe me, or just didn't _care_. She told me it was the only reason she had joined us to fight, and she would leave if I didn't help her. I refused, she told me I was a fool and walked out." I grimaced. "She was never my friend. She was never my _sister," _I spat the word out like poison. "It was all part of some mad plot of hers."

"But… why? Why would she want a child that would attract every darkspawn within miles?" Anders was staring at me, trying to piece it together.

"I don't know. She wouldn't tell me, and I never saw her again. I don't even think she believed me when I told her that would happen." I snorted. "To think, she looked down on me for using blood magic."

A pounding on the door cut any response he might have had short. Before I could pull a nightshirt on and answer Varel was storming into my bedroom. I hastily covered myself with the sheet and sat up.

"Varel?" I asked, taking in the panicked look on his face.

"Darkspawn are marching on the city!"

"Get everyone up, I'll be right downstairs!" He ran off and I leapt from the bed, quickly putting on a robe and arming myself as heavily as I could. Anders wasn't far behind me, slipping into his own room for his clothes and staff. "Let's MOVE," I screamed as I ran into the hall, taking the stairs down two at a time.

The main hall was filled with pacing, panicked nobles. Even the Revered Mother was there, although why she wasn't at the Chantry, say, comforting terrified people I couldn't guess. "Who brought the report?" I called as I ran in. A young elven woman stood up. "Did you see them yourself?" She nodded, shaking. "How many? Roughly."

"I- I don't know?"

"I don't need anything exact. I'd just feel better with a very general idea. Are we talking a hundred, several hundred, a thousand?" I took a breath. "_Several_ thousand?"

"Oh no, ma'am, nothing like that. Several hundred? Perhaps?" I nodded, thanked, her, started towards the other side of the room, away from the crowd.

"Is that good?" Nathaniel said, falling in step beside me as we walked to Varel.

"No. There's more around, I could feel it in Kal'Hirol. They've split up."

Varel informed me that we could only send a small team in, without troops. That answered the split darkspawn forces question. No troops. I shuddered. Even in Denerim I had armies to help.

I dropped to the dias, sitting on the floor by the throne. "Andraste's ass," I had no idea what to do. _Think, Maggie, think,_ I pressed myself. Everyone looked at me, waiting for a decision. No matter how I twisted the situation in my mind it remained the same. Hundreds of darkspawn, maybe four Wardens, and no one backing us. This wasn't bad odds, this was impossible odds.

"Nathaniel," I called. He kneeled next to me. "Well, second in command, any ideas?"

"I've been a Warden for two months, Maggie."

"Yeah, and I was a Warden for a single day before I led everyone against the blight. Don't sell yourself short." I took a breath. "All right, fine. Two teams. I lead one, head to the city, you lead the other. Stay here." He nodded.

"Sound plan."

"If I- If anything happens, you're Commander. I trust you." He nodded.

Anders sat beside me. "So, you don't have high expectations for our little trip?"

I shook my head. "Four versus hundreds? Sorry, not really, although I might surprise myself."

"Come on, you killed an archdemon!"

"Sure, with an _army _behind me." I took his hand. "For whatever it's worth, it's been a good couple months." I berated myself for pushing him away for so long. "I should have… Well, never mind," I shrugged. "Too late now." What could I say? _'Hey, if I knew I'd die in two months I would have slept with you much sooner since it turns out I like you way more than I expected I would?' _Not exactly the last words of a hero.

"It's that bad, then?" I didn't answer. "I hope you don't intend to go on this suicide mission without a healer."

"You don't have to do this, Anders."

"What are you on about now? I know I don't, but I am anyways. Just try and stop me."

I stared at him gratefully. He gave me a sheepish grin and shrugged. "Thank you," I said. "All right, time to look like I know what I'm doing."

We stood up and I called the other Wardens over, gesturing for Velanna and Varel to join us. "I'm leading the team into the city; Nathaniel is leading the team staying here. Anders is with me, I can't do healing myself. Velenna, if anything happens here, can you act as healer? I know it's not your specialty, but we have a full infirmary with everything you would need." She nodded.

I turned to the seneschal. "Varel, Weisshaupt knows Nathaniel is my second?" He nodded. "Good. If I don't return, he's Commander. I don't want them sending someone from Orlais here to run things, people would riot and we'd never recruit a soul. They'll try since he's new, don't let them." I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to remember what else had to be done. "There's a letter in the top drawer of my desk, wrapped around several others that are sealed. I left instructions in the letter for my personal effects, the others are to be delivered." It was nothing fancy, I didn't exactly have piles of wealth. My magical items to Jowan, my warden items to Alistair, clothes and jewelry to Leliana. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that but I'd rather be prepared.

Oghren lightly punched me in the arm. "You think you're taking all the fun? I spit on that archdemon with you, I'm going, too." He was actually being completely literal. After the final battle he, Zevran, and I managed to drag our broken bodies over to the archdemon's corpse and spit in its face. I still rated it as one of the high points of my life. We then collapsed to the ground waiting for someone to find us, both men berating me for being the only mage in the world who couldn't heal.

"It's the Architect's turn now!" I grinned at the thought of spitting on that creepy bastard. Experiment on me, will you? We'll show you how well that goes over.

"Damn straight!"

"You sound like this is a suicide mission," Sigrun commented.

"I won't lie, our odds aren't great. I'm preparing for the worst, but I hope this can be managed."

"Well, count me in. I'm dead already!"

"Fair enough," I told her. I was grateful not to have to ask anyone to come with me. I knew none would refuse, at least, but I didn't want to drag anyone to their death against their will.

Justice gripped my arm. "If I ever had any doubts of you, they are erased. Fight nobly and, if you die, die with honor."

"My family built that city over generations," Nathaniel told me. "Don't let her fall. Your home will be safe until you return, Commander. I'll make sure your trust hasn't been misplaced."

"May the wind be ever at your back, Commander," Velanna told me.

"Maker protect you and hold you close, Commander," Varel added.

I smiled while shuddering inwardly. It was obvious none of them expected us to live. I had to get out of here before we started getting maudlin. No one would feel safe if they saw the only Wardens in the country gathered in the corner making tearful goodbyes and the nobles were watching our conference from across the room with growing interest. "Please don't build the pyre just yet, they don't even have an archdemon with them!" I managed a grin at that, and the tension dissipated.

"All right," I said, "everyone follow at least to the door, so they see the full strength of the Wardens, it'll look better than just four of us." Varel gestured to the crowd before I could go. Oh Maker, was this Inspiring Speech time? I was horrible at that. They nobles stared at me and, yes, apparently it was Inspiring Speech time.

I gave Varel a desperate glance, he only shrugged. No help there.

"Um, everyone?" I said, walking to the middle of the room. I didn't need to say anything, they were all watching me. "I'm sorry, I usually avoid public speeches." Most of them stared at me blankly. "I'm Warden Commander Maggie Amell," I added. "I led the Wardens during the blight." That wasn't technical, but it was close enough. Now they were looking at me hopefully, like I would raise my arm, perform some spell, and announce the darkspawn were all dead. The Revered Mother was shooting daggers from her eyes, but I ignored her as best I could.

"When… when I survived Ostagar I'd been a Warden for one day. I knew the motto of the Wardens, '_In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice,' _and nothing else. Everyone who should have taught me was killed that day." I hoped they would follow my train of thought. _See_, _I've faced impossible odds before!_ "But, Alis- His Highness and I spent every day trying to live up to those words. In the end, I hope we did." Oh good, some are nodding_._ "I can only say that today we'll do the same thing. We'll do what the Grey Wardens have done for over a thousand years. We'll fight the darkspawn, and we'll win." _Or die trying. _To my shock most applauded. I took that as our cue to leave.

Heading towards the door I forced myself to maintain a confident expression as I nodded to the nobles, and not bolt. The other Wardens fell in line behind me.

"Commander," someone called. I turned my head to see the Revered Mother looking at us. "Will the Wardens accept the Maker's blessing?" _Please please don't let her turn this into a public anti-mage protest,_ I silently prayed, knowing there was no way for me to refuse in a room full of every noble in the Arling without causing a small riot.

"Of course, Revered Mother. Thank you," I said, trying to sound like I actually wanted it. I could see Velanna make a face and step back. Oghren and Sigrun averted their eyes and stood to one side as politely as they could, which wasn't very politely in the case of Oghren. The rest of us went to one knee, waiting for her. I could hear Anders grumble something behind me, and both Varel and Nathaniel ordering him to be quiet.

_"Maker, my enemies are abundant. Many are those who rise up against me. But my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against me."_

Huh. That was unexpected. I'm sure she saw the surprise on my face. I stood up, thanking her again, this time sincerely. We saluted each other and parted at the main door of the Keep.

Once outside we headed for the stables. "Sigrun, double up with Oghren, he's the best rider of the group." He had learned in the army, where riding was a near-daily activity. "Anders and I will do our best not to fall off our horses."

"So, will these things be an annual event for us, Mags?" I laughed. Oghren was nothing if not reassuring before a battle.

"Oh yeah. Last year the archdemon, this year talking darkspawn, maybe next year they'll learn to fly. That would be something."

"Shouldn't you be scared?" Anders whispered to me as we walked.

"I am," I admitted. "Nothing I can do about it, though. This is what Wardens do. You never know, my luck may not have run out yet, we could be fine." I looked at him. "You?"

"Nooo, nooo, don't be silly. Well, perhaps a little." He chuckled at that. "You may be right; the Maker may watch us today. But, if not, at least I'll die a free man."

Anders grabbed me before I could climb into the saddle, pulling me towards him. "Maggie," he whispered in my ear, "good doesn't begin to describe the last couple months." Embracing me, we kissed, first lightly, then as if we realized it could be the last time, more intensely. His hands dug into my waist, almost painfully tight. We parted and he ran his fingers across my cheek. "I- We should get going," Anders said abruptly, face coloring. I nodded and the four of us rode for the city.

* * *

_Continuity FAIL on my part. You can't actually recruit Loghain and make Alistair king unless he marries Anora in game. Oops. Well, let's just make her the Teyrna of Gwaren. She totally loves it there._


	24. We'll be the talk of the court

We made it in a matter of hours. I'd never rode so fast in my life, and spent much of the trip clutching the reigns as though that would keep me from cracking my head on the ground. My head began to scream at me when we were a mile out from the city. "Switch to foot travel," I shouted over the sound of the hooves. Hopefully if we started walking now we would be able to stand without wobbling by the time the darkspawn were on us. At some point, after our rushed exist from the Keep, I had calmed considerably. I was still convinced I might not live through the day, but it didn't bother me. I was in the same cold state of eerie calm I'd had during the siege of Denerim. Loghain had called it 'the serenity of war,' and I had yet to think of a more apt description.

Leaving our horses at an abandoned farm we went on foot towards the city. Smoke already filled the sky, and I could hear the sound of metal on metal in the distance. Darkspawn had started to overrun the small farms outside the city walls. Once they were dispatched a farmer ran out of one of the homesteads. "Please, Grey Wardens" he shouted to us, "save my family, my family is in the city!" A guard was all but shoving the man aside before I could even respond. I glanced at him and recognized him as the head of the city guards, the one who couldn't manage to get to the bottom of a smuggling ring I had cleared out in a single day with only Anders, Nathaniel and Oghren. _Incompetent,_ I thought to myself. _And now rude to villagers as well. _I wasn't impressed with the city's guard forces so far.

The guard told the man to calm down, saying he had to speak to me. He didn't even bother trying to reassure the poor man. I could feel my jaw clench. Thankfully, Sigrun grabbed the man by the sleeve before he could walk away and spoke to him in low, reassuring tones.

"Warden Commander," the guard addressed me, ignoring the others, "I'm glad you arrived when you did, but I fear there is little that can be done now." I blinked.

"Weren't you in charge of Amaranthine's defense?" I asked him coolly, folding my arms across my chest.

He admitted to failing in his duty, which was patently obvious from the state of the city and the smoke already stinging my eyes. The guard then went on to claim there had been no chance for success. "A couple of nights ago a swarm of gruesome creatures emerged from beneath the city," he began, adding that the darkspawn did not follow until later. I gasped.

Although he was still talking I had stopped listening at this point. The words 'beneath the city,' caught my attention. The smugglers' tunnels. The same tunnels I had told him about, with a warning that they had to be sealed off. "A _couple_ of nights ago?" I all but shouted. "Why wasn't I informed until _today_??"

Instead of answering me the guard only insisted that the city was completely lost.

"Lost? The city still stands!"

"The buildings might remain, but there will be few survivors after those creatures appeared." Ah, an optimist as well, apparently. He was wrong, of course. Most of Denerim had fled before the Darkspawn arrived, thanks to Alistair sensing them approaching, but thousands remained unable to leave. Those that locked themselves in their homes, barricading the doors, mostly survived. Darkspawn didn't have the skill or patience to pick locks when so much easier prey was unencumbered. Although the corruption and was contagious and incurable, it was only so through direct contact. Anyone who locked themselves inside would be safe.

Another guard ran over to us as I put my hand up for quiet, sensing the darkspawn. He pointed out a solitary darkspawn approaching, one of the new talking hurlocks. The archers took aim, but seeing he had his arms extended in a gesture of peace, weapons sheathed, I called for them to stand down.

The darkspawn called out to us as he approached, saying he had a message for the Grey Wardens from the Architect. I shuddered. It didn't get any better. In a voice that sounded like gravel stirred through mud the darkspawn went on to tell us that the forces of the Mother had split themselves, attacking Vigil's Keep after we left. _Figures_, I thought grimly. He insisted we return home and fight the darkspawn there before facing the mother in her lair.

_Not sodding likely,_ I thought to myself. Hole up in our home and leave the world outside to destruction? Weisshaupt wouldn't even have to take the time to remove me as Commander if I did that, I'd throw myself on my own damn sword in shame. If anyone could defend the Keep it was Nathaniel, he suspected an attack as well as I did when we learned of the size of the force moving on the city. Not only was it his family home for centuries, but his pregnant sister had just arrived that morning with her husband as well. Our walls were built by the best dwarven crafters on the surface, and Master Wade had equipped each of our troops with silverite armor. The Keep would stand, and my presence there wouldn't change things one way or another.

"Why were you sent to warn us?" I asked him.

"The architect wishes to have the Grey Wardens' trust. He does not wish to see the Mother succeed." _Our trust_, I thought, shocked. Well, holding us captive for a week was a great building block for that relationship. I still didn't know what had been done to me there, come to think of it. I wondered, deep down, if I'd end up hitting my calling in five years instead of thirty or some other horrifying possibility.

That was all it took for the guards. They began to insist I leave, saying we should _burn_ the city, of all things. "You can't be considering this!" Anders fumed. "Burning a city that has survived generations? Trade will be crippled without Amaranthine!"

Oghren snorted. "Wake up, boy. You're talking about stone and mortar. You want to destroy the Wardens for a bunch of rocks?"

"This is _wrong_," Anders countered. "And if there's even _one_ innocent person in there… we can't- we can't just-" his words trailed off, he was too angry to speak.

I shook my head. "I'm not giving up on Amaranthine. There _will_ be survivors. _Thousands_ survived the siege of Denerim, I won't have the people here die on my order." Oghren glared at me. "I trust Nathaniel to lead the defense of the Keep, four more people there won't make any difference, you know that." He finally nodded grudgingly.

"I stand with the commander," Sigrun added, over the protests of the guard. "We must try to save Amaranthine. That's what Grey Wardens do, we protect people."

The darkspawn protested, nearly frantic. "If you stay the Mother will get what she wants," he insisted.

He presented this as though we could only side with the Mother or side with the Architect. I cast a glance to the archer. She released a quick shot, and the messenger was down. Anders looked at me sharply but Oghren and Sigrun both nodded with approval. I toyed with the idea, very briefly, of telling him to fight with us. If I had I wouldn't have been able to sense the darkspawn cloaking themselves in shadows because of his proximity. If I ordered someone to tie him up they would end up catching the darkspawn corruption. Letting him go about his way was never an option, I'm a Warden, not a Chantry sister. "I'm not picking sides," I said, walking to the city gates, "we kill them all."

We started seeing survivors within feet of the gates, fighting off darkspawn in the very streets. "The city is lost?" I muttered between spells? "Doesn't look like it to me." Even in Denerim we only saw people in the streets briefly, and that was in the alienage, where everyone assumed they would be left to their own defenses.

"Aye, they're putting up a good fight," Oghren said, respect in his voice. "That guard didn't know what he was talking about." I agreed, forcing myself not to imagine those same people bravely fighting for their homes burning to death in the streets.

Not only was the rest of the guard force, excluding the completely useless captain, out fighting, but many civilians were as well. I even saw the dwarven weapon merchant standing on top of his stall, crossbow in hand, shooting off bolt after bolt almost as fast as Nathaniel could manage with a normal shortbow. He raised a hand to me in as we approached before returning to his work. "Wardens," he bellowed once the immediate danger had passed, "awful glad to see you!"

"Awful glad to be seen," I responded, grasping his wrist in greeting. "How are you holding up?"

He shrugged, confessing to a few injuries. Anders healed him without prompting and I told him to take shelter. "Most folks have run, but a good number are in the Chantry," he told me.

"Give us time to clear a path and then make your way there," I ordered him. "We don't need you surrounded and running out of bolts, or out here alone after dark." He protested, but I waved my hand. "It wasn't an invitation. You're a skilled man; we need you to live to fight another day."

He nodded at this. "Warden, you should have been born Warrior Caste." I chuckled at the idea of a dwarven mage and wished him luck as we moved on.

We reached the Chantry several hours after nightfall, starving and exhausted. The city had been cleared of the darkspawn, and I couldn't sense any in the area. However, none of us were in any condition to fight further. We were all bleeding from minor injuries, and Anders was sagging from the strain of healing all of the severe ones. A guard ran down to meet us. "Warden Commander," he greeted me, bowing in salute. "We have received word of another wave of darkspawn approaching the city. They will be here within the day."

"The streets are cleared for now. What do you suggest?" I asked him. He looked at our bloody clothes and directed us to the Chantry. Survivors had holed up there, along with the militia's base of operations. He offered to search out the rest of the survivors while we rested and resupplied.

I thanked him and pushed the heavy doors open. People crowded every inch of the floor, sleeping on makeshift bedrolls or the stone itself. Those few who took note of our entrance looked relieved. The priest who had spoken to Anders and me on our last visit to the city ran over to us accompanied by a man from the militia, both looking almost as exhausted as we were. To my shock, she embraced me and then Anders, paying no attention to the blood covering us. "Maker bless you!" she exclaimed, a look of profound relief on her face. "Please, tell me what you need, our supplies are at your disposal!"

We checked our stores. Anders motioned to me and opened his belt pouch, where he kept lyrium. It was empty. "Thank you, Sister. Rest and food at the moment, but we will need supplies if we want to continue fighting tomorrow." She nodded. "Health poultices, primarily."

I glanced around, seeing several templars within hearing range. They were already watching us, but with no obvious hostility. At least, no more hostility than they would give to any mage. I lowered my voice to a whisper. "We are also out of lyrium. Anders is a healer, that's particularly draining. We wouldn't make it very far without resupplying." She gave me a knowing glance and a nod. The lyrium trade was strictly regulated. As far as most people knew, it went from Orzammar directly to Circle tower. Few realized every Chantry had their own supplies in addition to what was given to mages- mostly because few realized the Chantry kept templars loyal and in check by addicting them all to the substance.

"The Revered Mother has left," the priest said. "You are welcome to use her quarters. I'll have food sent, and your supplies ready by morning."

"Yes, I saw her at the Keep before we left," I said, hoping she would tell me why the woman would abandon her flock at a time like this. She gestured us to follow, closing the door after we had entered the back bedroom.

The priest sighed. "I assumed as much. She said something about wanting to be there when the nobles saw 'that maleficar and her pet apostate for what they really are.' I am sorry."

"'_Pet apostate,'"_ Anders exclaimed, clearly offended.

I gasped. That was actually _worse_ than the cowardice I had assumed inspired her appearance. "What did she expect me to do? Giggle and clap my hands at the death and destruction?"

"Something like that, I imagine. She hoped they would rise up against you on the spot."

"Good luck with that plan," Oghren snorted. "Maggie's got most of those prissy nobles eating from her hand."

"Maker's breath," I muttered, and apologized hastily. Taking the name of god in vain in a Chantry wouldn't win me any points.

The priest only chuckled, patting my arm. "Believe me, that is not even the worst thing I've heard in the last _hour_. You four get cleaned up, I'll have food sent back to you. Wardens eat a good deal, yes? I'll make sure it's sufficient." I thanked her again. "If you need anything please don't hesitate to ask," she added. "I'm Sister Moira."

"Named for the Rebel Queen?" I asked, curious.

"You know your history," she said, smiling. "My father was a knight in her service. He died in the attack that killed her while my mother was still with child." I had been wondering how she became a priest at her age; she looked to be several years younger than I was. That story would make her a couple years older than Anders. _Being nice must keep you looking young_, I thought to myself as she left.

A knock at the door revealed two young boys with buckets of hot water, followed by another carrying food. Sigrun and I grabbed a bucket and our packs and skirted behind a bookcase, Oghren and Anders did likewise with the other across the room. "Hey!" Sigrun shouted towards them, annoyed.

I had expected an excuse from Oghren for peeping, but Anders only piped up with "sorry, sorry. accident." Oghren snorted with laughter and Sigrun cast me a glance, eyebrow raised with surprise. "And you actually have sex with that man?" she asked, mockingly.

I shrugged and grinned. "Every chance I get." She shook her head, laughing.

Anders and I had both dressed in clean robes, hair hanging loose around our shoulders, my dark hair several inches longer than his golden locks. Sigrun and Oghren were in the simple pants and shirts they wore under their armor. Once washed we devoured the food provided with little conversation.

Three cots sat in the middle of the room, the Revered Mother's double bed tucked hidden behind a bookshelf made four. For now we were all sitting on the cots, Anders and I sharing one. "Pet apostate," he muttered again. "Is that how people see me?"

"It's not how _I_ see you," I told him. "I bet she called you that since it was the most insulting thing she could think of." He snorted. "Didn't _you_ tell _me _to ignore her?"

"I know," he replied. "That's just a bit much, though."

"Ancestor's tits, boy," Oghren piped up. "Even I can see she picked that just to get to you. Don't go getting your robes in a bunch."

"Fine," Anders said, relaxing slightly. "I'd like to know where she got maleficar from, though."

"There have been rumors about me since I joined the Wardens."

"Is this a surfacer thing?" Sigrun asked. I gave her a quick rundown on the Chantry rules on magic.

"So what's the difference between regular magic and blood magic," she asked me.

"Regular magic comes from a mage's internal stores of magical energy. Think of it as stamina, which you can supplement with lyrium when you're worn out. Blood magic is fueled by actual blood, either the mage's or someone else."

"Is that why you sometimes-" I cut her off, waving my hand.

"Warden or not, they'd kill me without hesitation if the templars knew," I warned her, whispering. I nodded fiercely so she understood, and in case any nosey templars were outside the door added, "I'd never do anything like that!" in a loud voice.

"So… that's _evil_?"

"Usually," Anders said. I gave him a dirty look.

"Magic just _is._ It's no more evil than a sword or a bow. The morality comes from whoever is casting the spell."

"Maggie has a uniquely charming and naive perspective on this," Anders replied. "I don't think any intentions would make controlling someone's mind or using the blood of another, even an ally, to fuel your own power morally _right_, and anyone who practices blood magic can learn those skills."

"And I say no moral person would ever think of doing those things in the first place. But using just your own blood, to attack an enemy in battle, when you're otherwise exhausted? That's survival. Besides," I added, "just saying anyone who knows one skill can learn another is silly. Any mage can learn blood magic and therefore the same spells; _that_ is exactly why the Chantry cages us."

"You know we'll never agree on this, Mags," Anders finally said. He had never called me by my nickname before. Maybe it was to soften his words.

"You're right," I agreed. "And this is perhaps the worst place we could be having this conversation."

"Let's get some rest," Sigrun said. "Tomorrow won't be any easier than today. I agreed. The two dwarves proceeded to turn down the bedding on their respective cots while Anders followed me to the Revered Mother's bed. Crawling under the blankets I tried not to think of the woman who usually slept here. Eventually I could hear both Oghren and Sigrun snoring softly from the other side of the bookshelves.

"You're not asleep," Anders whispered, rolling on his side.

"Neither are you," I answered, also keeping my voice quiet so as not to wake the others. "Worried?"

"Hoping we made the right decision." I rolled over, folding myself into his arms.

"Yeah," I said. "I trust everyone we left behind, but I'm so scared we'll get back and find them…"

"Well, nice to see you assume we'll make it back at all," Anders said. "That's an improvement."

"Just not thinking about the alternative," I said honestly.

"Promise me you'll be careful tomorrow," Anders said, holding me closer.

"Only if you promise the same," I said.

"I'm always careful," he insisted. "You're the crazy one." He was running his fingers up and down the side of my neck, an apparently unconscious gesture. I could feel my breath catch.

"I promise," I whispered. "We'll be fine. Once this is over we'll go to Orzammar and-"

"And Denerim," he added. "They'll have a huge party for us, and we'll spend the whole night drinking and dancing." Anders cupped my chin with his hand, raising my face to his so he could kiss me.

"We'll be the talk of the court, especially if we play anyone else at cards." I giggled and slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound. I could still hear snoring. Our eyes met briefly in the darkened room. As if by unspoken agreement we began to shift clothing around.

"Quiet," I whispered in warning. I shifted so I was on my back, and Anders rolled on top of me. He kissed me again, lips soft against mine, to stifle my groan as he slid into me. I moved my hips up, meeting each thrust, arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Anders pulled his lips from mine. He moved slowly, almost maddeningly so, it took all my self control not to gasp and buck my hips against his. We were normally almost frantic, with biting and pulled hair and nails digging into skin, strangled pleas of _faster_ and _harder_, as though expecting armored footsteps to interrupt us at any moment. This was so gentle, completely different not just from how we usually were, but from anything I would normally desire. I rocked my hips against his, wishing it would never end. "Oh Maker," I gasped so quietly I could barely hear my own voice.

My eyes closed as my head fell back, biting my lip to maintain silence. "Open your eyes," he whispered, voice strained. I looked up and our eyes locked. Anders ran a hand along my jaw and across my cheek, maintaining that same slow pace. Removing a hand from his shoulder I entwined my fingers in his hair, holding it back from his eyes. His fingers traced my mouth, soft as silk against my skin. I kissed them softly before parting my lips, drawing one into my mouth and gently sucking, still holding his gaze. Anders bit his lip to stifle a moan. After a second he moved his hand, tracing the edge of my cheekbone, leaving a damp streak across my face.

Anders slid his arm between us as his pace increased. I gasped and quickly covered my mouth as his fingers began to move against me, first slowly in a circular pattern, then faster, back and forth, matching the speed of his thrusts. Even at his increased pace Anders was moving so slowly, I could feel every inch of him as he slid in and out of me. _Oh Maker, Oh Maker, Oh Maker,_ I thought, not daring to move my hand from over my mouth. My eyes began to close as I lost concentration. "No," Anders whispered, "look at me." I forced them open again, meeting his amber gaze. I could see his breath and mine as frost formed on my hands. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, a catch in his voice. I could see his brows drawing together and knew he was close.

His finger slipped just the tiniest bit lower causing me to gasp again. The chant in my head grew faster as Anders increased his pace. _MakerMakerMakerOhAnders _I shuddered, biting down on my hand to stifle my cries before dropping my arm back to the pillow, panting soundlessly. Freeing his hand from between us Anders placed his fingertips against my lips once more. I could taste myself on him as I ran my tongue across them. His eyes widened and Anders tensed, moving faster and faster. Collapsing onto me I could hear him gasping against the pillow.

Holding me to him, Anders whispered in my ear, murmuring my name. His words came out in a rush, promises of what we would do after tomorrow, after the battle, spoken so quietly I could barely hear him over the snoring of our companions. We each whispered a final vow to each other before falling into a fitful sleep.

When I remembered the next morning what words Anders had said in my ear as we lay there, clinging to each other on the Revered Mother's bed, I reminded myself people said funny things the night before a battle. I hoped he would assume the same of my reply.


	25. This is a horrible location for a picnic

The sounds of rattling armor drew me out of bed. I poked my head around the corner of the bookshelf to see Oghren and Sigrun helping each other into their gear.

"Morning," I said.

"Not sure if it really is," Oghren replied. "But she insists dawn is any moment now."

"Don't tell me you've lost your stone sense," Sigrun protested, sounding shocked. I had no idea what stone sense entailed, but apparently it encompassed the ability to tell time in a windowless room. That would be a useful ability.

The door opened just as I was walking from behind the bookshelf. Seeing me, the clearly unused cot, and our group less one mage the priest looked at me, eyebrow raised. Anders, with his unique talent for making awkward situations worse, chose that moment to appear behind me, hair disheveled. He stumbled out from behind the bookshelf blindly, wrapping both arms around my waist and nuzzling my neck.

"Um, Anders," I said softly.

"mmmrf," he muttered into my neck.

"Anders!" I repeated. "We have company!" The accuracy of this statement was suspect, since technically we _were_ the company. It did the trick, though. He looked up and dropped his arms like I was on fire. I heard a crash behind me and turned to see he had managed to knock a small table over in his attempt to put distance between us. I briefly had the urge to cover my face with both hands. Not an option, unfortunately.

"Good morning, Sister," I said as if absolutely nothing abnormal was going on.

Fortunately she was too polite to do anything beyond shaking her head. "Here are your supplies, Wardens."

"Thank you. Is there any word on the approaching horde?" I couldn't sense anything yet.

"The militia has scouts keeping watch, no sign of anything so far." She excused herself quickly.

"That could have gone better," I muttered.

Anders, having regained his composure, shrugged. Filling his pockets with lyrium he passed the rest to me. We split the health poultices up among the four of us, finished getting ready for the fight, and headed into the Chantry proper.

We sat against a wall, barely speaking. The waiting was driving me mad. "An army of darkspawn doesn't just _vanish_," I insisted for what might have been the fifth time. Jumping to my feet I began to pace. "All right, the scouts can't find anything, so I don't think the four of us would do much better. How long should we wait before returning to the keep?" Oghren shrugged. I froze midstep.

A pulling at my mind, hair on edge. Sigrun had jumped to her feet as well, with Oghren and Anders not far behind. The priest looked at us curiously. "Maggie," Sigrun said, "I can sense… but…." I nodded.

Anders whipped his head around, surveying the chantry. "I can't get a direction. It feels like they're _everywhere_. But not close, at the same time. How is this possible?"

"Oh no," I muttered, already rushing for the door. "Damn that guard, no!"

"Where are they?!" Oghren shouted, looking around. A guard burst in before I could answer. I knew what he was going to say.

"Darkspawn are breaking through!" he shouted.

"Where!" Oghren demanded.

I knew the answer, though. Everywhere, but far away. It was the feeling of being in Orzammar, of being on top of the deep roads. The priest had run over, fear plastered across her face.

"The inn! They're coming from the inn somehow."

The other end of the tunnel. "We've been standing right on top of them," I muttered. "In all directions, but far away."

"Stay here," I told the guard. "Keep the doors guarded and barricaded." I didn't wait for him to answer.

We fought our way through the streets once more, the bodies from the previous night still lying in the road. "I told them to SEAL THAT TUNNEL," I shouted as we fought, punctuating my words by beheading a genlock.

"Maggie, you can have the guard killed later," Oghren laughed, swinging his axe at an ogre. I froze it in place to help him. Once it was down I looked both ways and cheered.

"I swear I'll never get used to that," Anders said, opening the door to the inn.

"Won't be the last time you'll hear it today," I said, pushing past him into the bar area, where darkspawn were clustered around. Casting spells and bringing my sword on any that got too close, I crazily thought, '_Darkspawn? We don't serve your kind here!' _and laughed.

"What's so funny?" Sigrun asked once the first floor had been cleared. Anders was trying to heal a gash on my head and yelling at me to stop squirming. I told them and she groaned as if in pain.

"That's even worse than my jokes," Oghren muttered, shaking his head as he helped himself to a belt of whiskey from behind the bar.

Anders, however, was cracking up. "I was going to go with 'Four Grey Wardens walk into a bar. The darkspawn look at them and say,' but I couldn't come up with a punchline. Shameful how long it took me just to get the first half, really."

"You two done?" Oghren asked. Anders inspected my cut and nodded. Once we had cleared the second floor I stood near the trapdoor opening. Someone had cut the ladder. It was roughly a nine foot drop to the bottom, nothing we couldn't manage if we lowered each other down, but because of the elevation I was having trouble sensing the darkspawn, and it was too dark to see what was even directly below clearly.

"All right," I said, "this is going to sound strange, but I need someone to hold my feet."

"Why?" Anders asked.

"I need to get a better angle, to see what we're up against."

"No!" he shouted. Grabbing my arm he leaned towards me. "You _promised_ you would be careful," Anders all but hissed into my ear. I shook him off.

"I am being careful. That's why I asked you to hold my feet instead of just hooking my knees over the edge, and that's why I'm _checking first_ instead of blindly jumping down there to land on some emissary's lap."

"You want us to dangle you upside down into a hole full of darkspawn!"

"Anders, we have a job to do. Either we jump down there with no idea of what we're facing, or you help me check. We _don't have time to argue._" I kicked open the trapdoor and sat with my back to the opening, knees pulled to my chest.

"Fine, but I'm going on record as objecting to this plan," he said, grabbing my ankles tightly. I pushed myself away from the edge with my arms, letting my knees bend so I was hanging upside down.

To find myself staring right into the eyes of a hurlock. I hissed and recoiled, hearing someone above me shout. Without thinking I whipped my arm out, punching my fist towards the monster's neck, dagger in hand. Three quick jabs later and it was down, fortunately with nothing stepping forward to take its place. I closed my eyes, trying to determine how many and how far they were. After a moment I called for them to pull me up.

"About fifty," I said, back on solid ground. "Couple emissaries, couple ogres, the rest normal grunts, but all in the main chamber. The corridor below is clear for now." I wiped my dagger on the hem of my robe.

"Make a new friend?" Sigrun asked, watching me sheathe my dagger.

"They posted a lookout below the trapdoor. He won't be bothering us, got him before he realized I was there." She nodded with satisfaction. "Let's move."

Anders slipped feet first into the trapdoor, hands on the edge. I took one wrist, Oghren the other, and we lowered him down. Oghren went next, lowered by Sigrun and myself. Anders caught him with a grunt and set him on the ground. Next was Sigrun, I took one of her hands in each of mine to help get her low enough for Anders to grab her hips. Finally it was my turn. I didn't even have to drop, once I was hanging from my hands Anders was tall enough to grab me and lower me down.

"For the Grey Wardens!" Oghren bellowed, leading our charge.

Getting hit by the tail of a dragon really hurts, and will knock you a long way. Getting bit by a werewolf burns hotter than any fire, and makes you dizzy. Getting clawed by an archdemon hurts even more, and the scars will never, ever fade no matter how good your healers are. Comparatively, getting tossed across the room like a rag doll by an ogre is almost comfortable.

By which I mean it still hurt, a lot. I made an "uumfh" sound as I landed, followed by a string of more choice curse words. After trying to sit up, and failing, I cast a force field around myself, hoping that would hold long enough for someone else to finish off the ogre. It did better than I hoped. I woke up to find myself dizzy, mind reeling. _Mana clash,_ I thought hazily. _Who would cast that on me?_

"Sorry," Anders said, kneeling beside me. "But next time you cast a force field don't pass out inside it."

He hummed to himself while healing me, occasionally interrupting the tune with phrases like _this will hurt_ or _stop moving_. "So, last night," Anders said, shifting one of my ribs back into its proper position before casting another spell. "At the time I was thinking 'one of us might die, both of us might die, this could be our last night together,' you know, very melodramatic, very romantic." Ah, so it was time for the expected joke about putting his foot in his mouth. Wasn't there a better time? Like when my ribs were all in their Maker-intended positions? I winced as he poked something before casting a final spell. "All done." I sat up, and he went on. "Well, it just hit me." He snorted with laughter.

"What, Anders?" Laughter? Was this of the 'I can't believe I said that to you, hahaha,' variety?

He managed to stop laughing long enough to speak. "We… we had _sex_ in the _Revered Mother's bed._" Another peal of laughter.

"Maker's breath," I gasped. "I didn't even think of that!" I put my hands over my mouth, waiting for lightening to strike me dead.

"Oh calm down," he said, looking at me. "The Maker doesn't _care_. I bet he doesn't even like her. Besides, it's _funny_." I shook my head.

"Come on, back to work." I climbed back to my feet, walking to where I had dropped my staff.

"You know that will make for a _fantastic_ story next time we're drunk."

"What will?" Oghren asked, seeing I was now healed.

"Nothing," I replied.

"I'll tell you at the victory party," Anders said at the same time.

"We're having a victory party?" Sigrun asked.

"Of course," I told her. "After this we'll deserve one. Maybe Alistair will throw us something, and we can all go to Denerim. Dress up like nobles and get drunk on fancy wine while everyone tells us how awesome we are."

"So you don't think we're going to die?" She sounded almost disappointed.

"We _might_, sure. I don't want to, though."

"Yeah, but… Legion of the Dead, remember?" I grinned.

"You can die later on. If you die now who will help me get the recruits from Orzammar used to surface life? And Nathaniel can't train anyone with blades, he's an archer."

Sigrun seemed to consider this for a moment. Anders and Oghren looked faintly amused. "All right, you have a point."

We headed out of the tunnels, emerging into mid afternoon, to take down another small band near the city gates, back where we began. A soon as the last ogre was down the guard captain ran over once again. I cast a pointed glance at the hundreds of people who had come out of their hiding spots to mill around in the streets or cheer at the gate, and looked at him. He at least had the decency to appear shamed.

He told us the darkspawn were retreating, and that another messenger from the Architect had arrived to tell us where the Mother could be found.

"Any news of the Keep?"

"We haven't heard much but what we have heard is… not good."

I knelt on the ground, face in my hands. Oghren put his hand on my shoulder. "All right," I said finally, standing up. "Where did they retreat to?" He gave us directions and we set off, hoping our horses were still alive.

* * *

"Maker's breath," Anders muttered. "I can't believe we killed a dragon."

"That makes five for me," I said. "or, well, dragon-like things."

It was after dark and the four of us were standing at the top of a Tevinter-era tower. The darkspawn at the bottom hadn't noticed us yet. I looked down, seeing the large single staircase, and came up with a plan. "Oghren, Sigrun, position near the top of the stairs. Anders, you and I will cast large spells below. Electrical storms, fire storms, anything. Any that make it through will be half-dead by the time they get to us." It worked, and we were soon picking our way through the bodies as we climbed down. Once at the bottom we darted out, drawing the darkspawn into the open, before bolting back up the stairs. Anders, waiting above, unleashed another lightning storm as soon as we were clear of the area. Using this method we made it through all four towers quickly.

"I feel like I could sleep for a hundred years," Sigrun protested. I knew how she felt. Oghren handed her a stamina potion from his pack. We were at the bottom of the last tower when the Architect cornered us. I jumped back, shuddering, as he levitated to the ground floor. A dwarven woman in heavy plate waited for him above. His voice, like dry parchment on stone, droned on, explaining that it was a 'misunderstanding.'

"A misunderstanding that ends in a heap of dead bodies?" Oghren asked. "Yeah, I get those sometimes, too." I had to make a note to buy him that chariot he'd been asking for since the blight.

"I have created a version of your Joining ceremony," the Architect went on, ignoring Oghren. "But for that, I need Grey Warden blood."

"I like my blood where it is," Anders said, glaring at him. "In my veins."

If I had to describe our confrontation with the Architect I could have made a list of least likely possibilities. I doubted we would all dance the Remigold together. Or any dance, when it came down to it. I doubted he and I would swap cookie recipes. I doubted he would want to shop for shoes. And I doubted the monster who kidnapped us and drained nearly all of my blood would propose an alliance. But, he did.

"What is this _Mother_, exactly," I asked him, knowing there was more to the story.

"My greatest mistake," he said. "Freedom drove her mad." That was all I needed to know.

"This _reeks_ of stupid," Sigrun muttered. I nodded.

"This ends here," I said.

After we had defeated both the Architect and the dwarven woman who accompanied him I stopped, resting.

"Did we do the right thing?" Oghren asked. "Could he have ended the blight? Kept the darkspawn from Orzammar?"

I shrugged. "He made the Mother, she destroyed Amaranthine, and he didn't even admit to doing anything wrong. Said she went mad because of her freedom. You think she'd be the last?"

He considered this. "Yeah, next it would be the sister, brother, and daughter banging on the door."

Anders drank another lyrium potion. "Can you people stop getting stabbed?" he asked. "That would really help a lot." He giggled. "Look who I'm asking. You _love_ to get stabbed. It's practically a Grey Warden hobby! We should add it to the motto. In war, victory and stabbings. In peace, vigilance after being stabbed. In death, sacrifice by stabbing."

I walked over to him and looked at his eyes. The pupils were enormous, black and round. "Anders, how many of those have you had?"

He counted, lost track, and started again. "Eight, since we got here. No, nine. Ten?" Another giggle.

I sighed. "All right, we're resting here for a bit until Anders comes down."

Sigrun shrugged and sat down, passing out dry meat and cheese from her pack.

"Comes down?" Oghren said. "You mean he's lyrium addled? I didn't think mages could get that."

"Just a bit," I said.

"Am not!" Anders protested. I ignored him for now.

"It's almost like being a little drunk, the everything is silly early stage. It'll pass soon."

"Sodding mages," Oghren muttered. "They get all the fun. We get too much lyrium in the blood and just go mad."

Anders pulled me onto his lap, giggling again. "Hello," he said brightly. Considering we were only feet away from a corpse, sitting in darkspawn filth, his mood was more than a little disconcerting.

"Anders, you need to eat," I told him, trying to squirm out of his grip.

"Only if you stay here," he said, grabbing me in a bear hug. Sigrun laughed.

I give up. I'll be the official joke of Weisshaupt. Other Wardens will snicker whenever Ferelden's branch of the order is mentioned. Alistair was right; recruiting nothing but crazy people and apostates was a mistake. And now I was sitting on the lap of one of my wardens, surrounded by darkspawn corpses, while begging him to eat dinner because he was too high on lyrium to think clearly. "Fine, just eat."

He began to shift under me halfway through our improvised meal. I took that as my cue and hopped down to sit on the floor.

"Feeling better?" I asked.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"It happens," I shrugged. "Getting a bit fog-brained is an acceptable price for not having any of us bleed out after a fight. I've had it hit me mid-battle before. _That's_ entertaining." That was, in fact, why I became a blood mage. Getting silly halfway through a fight was a great way to make sure you didn't have to worry about the Calling.

He looked over at the body. "This is a horrible location for a picnic."

I drained a lyrium potion. "Let's go, we still have the Mother to kill."

"Do all broodmothers smell this bad?" Sigrun asked as we approached.

"Basically, yeah." I'd forgotten she had never fought one up close before. Nor had Anders, for that matter. "All right, here's what we do," I began, calling them over before we entered the next chamber. "If there's a safe place to stand where we have a clear line of sight Anders and I will focus on large area spells. If not, Sigrun, Oghren, and I get as close to the broodmother as we can. Attack _her_, ignore the tentacles. We do that, Anders, you stay back and keep us healed, we're going to take a real beating."

"What is a safe place to stand?" Anders asked.

"Stone floor," Oghren answered him. "The tentacles can burst through if you stand on the meaty bits."

I'd seen a dwarven broodmother before, but this one appeared to be closer to human. A side effect of the Architect's experiments, perhaps. Of course, she had something to say as well. "If it isn't the hero of the hour," she called as we entered the room. "The slayer of the mighty Father come to claim a reward. Oh, what a delicious day."

"That," Oghren said, jaw open, "is a _lot_ of nipples."

"They just get bigger and uglier, don't they?" Anders asked no one in particular.

"Let's just kill this so we can go home," I said, suddenly exhausted. The broodmother laughed, the skin of her face peeling back in four segments. "eew," I muttered, casting a freezing spell. We chipped away at her defenses slowly, getting pushed back by the tentacles and fighting our way forward again. I could see Oghren straining more with each swing of his axe, sweat poured down Sigrun's face. A tentacle managed to throw me back.

"Maggie!" Anders shouted.

"I'm fine!" I rolled to my feet and went back down again with a scream, leg buckling beneath me. "or not." Anders started to rush over, but a red blur caught my attention. Oghren had been thrown, and with a lot more force than I was. "I'm fine, check Oghren first," I ordered. After a second glance at me Anders did, kneeling behind the dwarf.

"Blast, blast, blast," I muttered. I'd lost my knife in the tunnels below the city. Pulling Duncan's dagger off my back I glanced at it. I had promised Alistair I'd never use Duncan's weapons for blood magic, it was the only reason he didn't complain when I kept them, even though Duncan had been a rogue and both weapons were far too small for Alistair to ever use. He got the shield, I took the sword and daggers.

I sighed. Alistair would most likely rather have us live through the day than know Duncan's blades were lost forever in a broodmother's lair, next to my rotting corpse. Casting another freezing spell to help Sigrun, I ran the blade across the palm of my hand. Compared to the screaming of my leg it was nothing. A quick incantation and the red haze surrounded me. Another moment and I aimed my arms, directed at the broodmother. I laughed, watching her twitch and jerk as her blood boiled. _Ha! Take that!_ Raising my hands again I set off a burst of lightning, not releasing until the body sagged.

"Anders?" I called.

"Oghren's fine, I'm almost done with him, give me a minute."

"Sigrun? How are you?"

"Nothing a health poultice won't fix." She walked over and sat beside me. "You killed it while _sitting down_."

"_We_ killed it while I was sitting down," I corrected her, laughing. Taking a quick look at my leg I winced. Just getting home on that would be tough. "I think 'collapsed' is more accurate than 'sitting,' anyways."

Anders and Oghren joined us. "We're alive," Anders said to me as he examined my ankle.

"I noticed."

"So we get a party, right?"

"Maker, yes. Huge party. _Tons_ of booze."

"Yes, speaking of booze," Anders began, a wrinkle on his forehead. "Oghren, give Maggie a belt of whatever paint thinner you're carrying and then both of you hold her down."

I winced. "Andraste's tits, Oghren, what _was_ that?"

"No one sells the good stuff," he muttered, hands clamped to my shoulders while Sigrun held down my thighs. "Had to get that shipped in special from Rivain."

"All right, unless you want a limp I need to straighten this out before I can heal it. Count of three." I braced myself as he counted. I think I may have screamed as loud as the broodmother did when we killed her. "Next time you break something please stay down," Anders chastised me, his voice surprisingly calm.

Oghren and Sigrun released me and I fell to my back, panting, a cold sticky sweat all over my body. I winced, feeling the bones knit back together as Anders cast spells. Eventually the pain was replaced by warmth, and finally nothing. "Try standing up," Anders demanded, offering me a hand. I took a few tentative steps.

"Good as new," I announced. It wasn't, but it was close enough, and would be in a couple days at least. It wasn't the time to nit-pick.

While I wouldn't exactly call it making camp, we did sleep for several hours in one of the towers, too exhausted to carry on. I barely noticed the pile of darkspawn we pushed aside, and the feeling of blood in my hair as I collapsed. Up before first light, we made it back to our horses by dawn, pushing them to the keep at as fast a pace as we dared. I couldn't sense darkspawn, but it still didn't appear promising. I could smell smoke well before I could see the buildings. I urged my horse to go faster, watching the horizon for the home.

* * *

_A/N: Done with the main game! Woo! Got a bit too "omg we're all gonna die" for me at the end, but I figured the game totally presents it like that, so go with it. The specific bed in the last chapter? Totally didn't even think of it like that while I was writing it. But hell, even funnier that way, so thanks to the reviewers who mentioned it, I'm going to go with that.  
_

_The Maker smiles on those who review!_


	26. The hair fixing pillow fight idea

Nathaniel ran out to us as we rode into the courtyard. The smell of burnt timber was nearly overwhelming. Most of the outbuildings, the smithy, the dungeons, the cellars, and a substantial chunk of the main hall were burnt to some degree. I jumped down from my horse, wincing as my injured ankle hit the ground, but ignoring it as best I could.

"Thank the Maker!" I said, embracing him. "We were already at Amaranthine when word came of the attack. How are you? Where is everyone?"

He looked at the four of us, clearly shocked. "I can't believe you're actually here," he said. "Word came from the city; they said you left to hunt down the Mother. We wondered if you would actually return, but here you all are."

"I guess I'm getting pretty good at surviving suicide missions."

Nathaniel looked around the ruined Keep, face a mask of perfect misery. "I don't think I can call my first taste of command a rousing success."

I followed his eyes, examining the scene. It seemed as if dozens of people were wandering around the courtyard, examining the destruction and talking. "From what I heard about the size of the attack this is a lot better than I expected, actually. I don't know if I could have managed half as well." He only shrugged. "Let's go inside, I want to wash the broodmother guts from my hair. Then we can swap stories."

He led the four of us in, wooden crates stacked as makeshift stairs. I braced myself for what I thought was the worst, and still gasped when we entered the main hall. Tattered rags hung from the ceiling, the charred remains of our banners, the carpets were gone, and the very stone below singed. Piles of ashes sat at regular intervals along the walls, after a moment I realized they had been our bookshelves. The very walls were destroyed, plaster and wood blackened or gone completely, revealing the stone below. Even that damned throne I hated so much was only a charred hulk. I briefly said a prayer of thanks that I had moved the weapons made from the bones of the first archdemon to my own quarters for safekeeping. "Fortunately," Nathaniel said, leading us on, "most of the interior damage is confined to this part of the Keep, and all of it to the lower floor."

"The cellars?" I asked him, suddenly nervous. "The archdemon blood?"

"I checked that first, after the battle. Well, after I sobered up. All intact."

"Good," I said. "Wait! Sobered up?"

He gave me a wry smile. "Once the fight was over the troops demanded I celebrate with them, although I was far from in the mood. They literally carried me through the courtyard." I grinned at the image.

"Nothing wrong with that. The troops have you to thank for their survival."

The bottom half of the staircase had been replaced with a sloped ramp, just planks of wood nailed to the first turn of the staircase. "They're all like that now. That may be my fault," Nathaniel said, seeing me examine the temporary repair. "When we saw the army approaching I sent all the civilians upstairs with as much food as they could carry and a couple of the newest guards. Then I took an axe to all the staircases so the darkspawn couldn't get to them. They had ropes to get down, if it came to that, but thankfully it never did."

"Andraste's tits, that's sodding _brilliant_!" He shrugged, examining his boots. After a moment of silence I realized he wouldn't broach the topic himself. "What of the casualties?"

Nathaniel sat on the floor in a completely uncharacteristic gesture. We joined him, forming a rough circle. "Varel is in the infirmary, he will recover," Nathaniel began. "We lost no civilians, so far as I know, but a few are injured. Nothing too severe, just problems from breathing all the smoke in. At the moment our current count says somewhere between two thirds and three quarters of our troops have died. Captain Gareval is still going through the rosters, and a few of the injured might not make it."

"I'll head up there in a moment," Anders cut in. I nodded.

"Justice was beheaded facing down two ogres at once. I don't know if that means he's returned to the fade or not, that would be something you and Anders would understand better than I. Kristoff's wife already has the ashes." I nodded, suddenly numb. "And Velanna has disappeared."

"Disapeared?" I asked him, confused. Velanna had willingly joined us, even _knowing_ the risks.

"Some of the men insist they saw a portion of the wall collapse onto her, but when the rubble was cleared we found no body. These are reliable men, men who have been here longer than us, not storytellers. I was near the gates the entire time, and the barrier to the deep roads was never breeched. I _know_ she wasn't taken," he shuddered slightly at that thought, "but we haven't seen her since."

"Do you think she just _left_?"

"I honestly don't know," he answered.

I was having trouble wrapping my mind around this. I would miss Justice, but he had never been _alive_ in the technical sense. Returning to the Fade made sense for him, and I suspect it was something he wanted. Plus, as a mage, there was always a chance I could see him there in the future. I had no idea what the disappearance of Velanna could mean. "Do you think we should have a funeral?" I asked. "Should we assume she died?"

"Well, she _could_ vanish," Anders pointed out. "Remember the first time we met, her spell with the trees?" I nodded. I'd asked her how that spell worked but she wouldn't tell me, claiming it was secret Dalish magic.

"Can you three go check on the wounded, let them know we're back?" I asked? Anders nodded, jogging up the stairs with the dwarves following behind.

I managed to scoot over on the floor, so I was facing Nathaniel. "I wish I could tell you it gets easier," I said, looking at him.

"What do you mean? Your people survived." He grimaced. "You trusted me with command and I end up with two dead Wardens and dozens of troops."

I sighed, closing my eyes. "Fifteen dwarven warriors, forty three soldiers from Redcliffe, and thirty Dalish hunters out of fifty of each, as well as ten mages out of a dozen, plus one Warden, all dead on my watch. Not to mention how many civilians died in the city." I looked at him, he was watching me. "Every day I wonder how many lives would have been saved if I'd walked a little faster, gathered my army any quicker, anything. And don't think I won't blame myself for every life lost here, too."

"Why would you blame yourself for this, you weren't here. Any fault lies with me."

"The city guards wanted to burn the city so we could defend the Keep. I decided to fight through the city instead of helping you. _I_ decided. I left you with one Warden and one unknown variable against an army. Maybe I should have left someone else here with you, maybe I shouldn't have trusted Velanna, maybe we should have rushed back and left the city. I'll always wonder. As far as I'm concerned _you_ did the impossible, every person here owes you their life. If anyone should be blamed for the dead, blame me."

"That's a lot of guilt to put on yourself. How do you manage it?"

"I asked Loghain the same thing once. He told me 'Never forget the value of what you've lost, it will force you to fight harder next time.'" I shrugged. "Of course, he once also told me 'a man is made by the quality of his enemies.' That sounded better before I realized most of my enemies are unholy monsters with the reasoning ability of a rabid badger. When he was still my enemy it was a pretty nice compliment, though."

Nathaniel chuckled at that. "I cannot imagine you and Teyrn Loghain sharing command strategies."

"He was… not what I expected."

"How so?"

"Well, understand how _boring_ life in the Circle is. I'm sure Anders will give you tons of off-color stories, but really, most of the time we studied and read. I think I've read every book written about the rebellion. An untrained commoner who defeated the mighty Chevaliers, freed us from tyranny, and rose to nobility? Who wouldn't be in awe?"

"Strange to think that the great Hero of Ferelden has heroes of her own."

"Yeah, that was something else I learned from him. I had expected him to be ten feet tall, blindingly handsome, with a great booming voice that could knock down a mountain. Imagine my surprise to meet a fairly normal looking man of fifty years. He hated his reputation; it was a chain around his neck. I now understand why. Who can live up to a myth? Had he been anyone else people would have looked at Ostagar and seen it was unwinnable. If he hadn't pulled out the whole army would have died. But all people think is the great Hero of River Dane could never be defeated in battle, so it must have been treason all along."

"Surprising to hear that from you," Nathaniel commented. I shrugged.

"Oh, believe me, at the time I could have killed him with my bare hands. It took a while to get here. I think they all knew it was a suicidal battle at the time, though. I suspect that's why the King specifically sent Alistair to light the beacon, keeping him off the field. No idea why he chose me to accompany him, though."

"I'd known Cailan since we were children. I could tell you exactly why he spared you."

"Oh?"

"Do I really have to spell it out for you, Maggie?"

"Apparently you do, I have no idea. I've long suspected it was because they didn't want someone a week past their Harrowing on the field to die in the first ten seconds of battle."

"Cailan _loved_ old tales and legends, always had. Especially those of the Grey Wardens, and he was fascinated with mages." I stared at him blankly. That was common knowledge about the late King. I'd seen him go on about the Wardens and tales myself, and he all but demanded I tell him about the Circle after the battle. "And," Nathaniel went on, "he shared many traits with his father." When I didn't answer Nathaniel sighed. "Let's just say the odds of King Alistair actually being the last living Theirin in Ferelden are about as high as me being the Emperess of Orlais."

I gasped. "No! You're kidding?"

"For a woman who kills monsters for a living you're remarkably naive," he said wryly. "My father used to joke about telling the pretty elven servants to hide whenever the King came to visit."

"Oh, I believe you, one of his father's bastards is my best friend, after all. Just… _me?_ He was a _King, _I was a nobody!"

"A pretty girl who also happened to be a mage _and_ one of the fabled Wardens? I'm astounded he didn't try and get you into his tent under the pretense of telling him about the Circle or some nonsense." When I didn't say anything Nathaniel laughed. "Maker's breath, he did, didn't he?" I'm sure the look on my face was answer enough. "So did you?" he whispered conspiratorially.

"He wasn't at his tent when I got there. Had I known he didn't actually want to hear about the blasted Circle I would have waited around for him to return. I mean, a handsome King? How often does that opportunity present itself?"

Nathaniel doubled over, shaking with silent laughter. When he recovered he choked out "I guess we know you have a type. Now that I think about it, Anders looks a lot like Cailin." He chuckled. "He doesn't happen to be a bastard, does he?"

I shushed him. "And from Gwaren," I whispered. "He said all he knows is his father fought in the rebel army."

Nathaniel's eyes widened. "You might want to keep that theory a secret; if anyone suspects he's a threat to the king…"

"A mage, remember? He's automatically disqualified from holding any title, same as me. That's why I'm acting Arlessa, and not the actual Arlessa. Besides, I'm sure it's all just an impressive collection of coincidences."

"True enough. Although if his mother turns out to be an elf..."

"What's wrong with having an elf for a mother?" Anders asked, walking in with Sigrun.

"Why would there be anything wrong with it?" I asked.

He snorted. "Are you new to Ferelden? Most humans, they're not fond of elves."

"I'm not 'most humans,' am I?" I asked. "Besides, I was involved with an elf for almost two years, obviously it doesn't make any difference to me."

"Another mage?" Sigrun asked.

"No, he was an Antivan Crow Nathaniel's father hired to kill me."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "That isn't funny, Maggie."

"It wasn't a joke, I'm serious."

"I'm assuming that wasn't a tactic you picked up from Loghain," he replied dryly.

"Maker's breath, you think I _seduced_ my way to victory across Ferelden? When we won the fight he signed on with us rather than return to the Crows, since they kill anyone who fails at a mission. The rest happened… later." I shrugged.

"You are far too trusting for your own good," Nathaniel said.

"Yeah, I should kill _everyone_ who tries to assassinate me." I made a face.

"All right, fair enough," Nathaniel admitted.

"So how did you get on the subject, then?" Anders asked.

"Royal gossip," I replied, having no idea how else to answer that.

"Has his Highness taken a fancy for one of the palace maids?"

"Actually, his _mother_ was a palace maid." Come to think of it, _all_ the maids in the palace were elves, at least when I lived there. I wonder if Alistair ever made the connection.

Anders laughed. "Yeah, he might want to keep that one quiet. Who knows how people will react to a half-elf king. Let me tell you, it doesn't lead to popularity with _either_ side most of the time. Especially the Dalish, I've learned."

"Velanna?"

He shrugged. "I thought it would put me on her good side, so she'd teach me that disappearing trick of hers. I'm not even going to repeat what she said."

"I'm amazed you didn't hit her with lightning."

"Believe me, the temptation was there. I just didn't want you to scream at me. You're scary when you yell."

Sigrun poked me in the side. I glanced over and she flicked her eyes to Nathaniel and blushed, offering a tiny shurg. Hint received, I stood up, yawning dramatically. "I'm going to sleep for a week. Goodnight, everyone."

I gestured to Anders and he gave me a confused look. I repeated, jerking my head in the direction of the stairs. Sighing, I finally asked "Anders, aren't you going to join me?"

He got to his feet. As we walked upstairs I'm sure Sigrun and Nathaniel heard him ask, "Makers breath, woman, aren't you already exhausted?" if her giggles were any indication.

"They wanted to be _alone_," I whispered.

"Really? Those two? Huh."

"Well, she did at least. She gave me a 'get out of here' signal."

The floors and walls upstairs were filthy, but everything else seemed otherwise normal, if one could ignore the smell of smoke. Anders disappeared to clean up while I went into my own room. My room actually seemed almost exactly as I had left it, right down to the unmade bed. Someone had tossed several letters on my desk. A maid bustled in behind me, followed by two pages. They filled the tub and promised to return with food for myself and 'Ser Anders.' I had given up on getting them to refer to us by names, but at least no one called the Wardens 'my lord,' and 'my lady' anymore. I asked her to leave the food on the table and went into my bedroom to wash up.

"So what is the 'get out of here' signal?" Anders asked, tossing himself on the bed with an exhausted sigh.

"She poked me and did an blushing shrug thing. It's not a set signal, I just got the hint."

"How did you manage to get 'I want to be alone with Nathaniel' from that?"

"Because I already knew she had a crush on him? I think he may have one on her, too, but Nathaniel isn't very easy to read."

He laughed. "Did she tell you? Was there girl talk while you fixed each other's hair? Oooh, did you talk about me?"

"I can't see either of us being 'do each other's hair' kind of girls. Can you even imagine?"

"hmm…" Anders paused, considering that. "Would it involve giggling and wearing very little clothing, and end with a pillow fight? I'm imaging that now and really enjoying the idea."

"Very funny. I knew because it's _obvious_. Same reason she knew there was something up with us from pretty much the moment we met her." I climbed out of the tub and dried off, yanking on a nightshirt. Anders had brought the food into the bedroom and was feeding Ser Pounce-a-lot bits of something. A large stack of books and clothes was piled next to the bed on the floor. "That closet's empty," I pointed.

"I get a closet now? In your room? I'm all warm and fuzzy inside."

"Well, somehow half your wardrobe ended up in here, it would only make sense." He looked down at the pile.

"How did that happen? Hm, funny. I'll take care of it in a bit." I climbed on the bed, accepting a plate from Anders. "So, how is it obvious? I had no idea. For that matter, how did she know about us, there was no 'us' when we met her in Kal'Hirol."

"Of course not. It was all so very random and out of the blue, the way you fell mouth-first onto me and I broke your fall with my lips, and then how I tripped and landed in your lap the next morning. Maker, we're clumsy people. That could be dangerous around the darkspawn."

"All right, I get your point."

"It was just so very, very, _very_ shocking and unexpected. Up until then I had no idea you even thought of me as anything other than a fellow Warden, nor did anyone else. I mean, I thought you held hands with Nathaniel all the time, and kissed Oghren on the cheek!"

"You're doing it again, Mags."

I giggled. "Sorry, a bit tired, it makes me drag jokes too far."

"I know. That's why I said _again_." He sighed and grabbed more cheese from the tray of food.

"Is this what they brought us to eat? It's all bread and cheese. I didn't know we even _had_ this much cheese in the Keep."

"I like cheese," Anders replied, mouth full. He swallowed and added "I asked for it." Remembering Alistair's near-obsession with cheese I suddenly wondered if King Maric had an unnatural fondness for the stuff as well. I would need to make a point of asking Eamon the next time I was in Denerim.

"I need to introduce you to Alistair…" I muttered, more to myself than him.

"Well, let's go to Denerim," he said. "Come on, tell me, how is it obvious. Apparently there are layers of secret code you learned that I never picked up. Was that what they taught you when they separated the girls and boys for classes when we were eleven? Since we just got a lecture on new places for hair to grow and warnings about what happens if anyone got another apprentice pregnant."

"No, we got warnings about not letting any of you get us pregnant. It's just obvious because, I don't know... She's always fussing with her hair around him, tucking it behind an ear and then pulling it back out. And teasing him about cheering up, or finding an excuse to touch him."

"And all that means Sigrun has a thing for Nathaniel?"

"Well, all put together, it's a strong indication." I thought for a moment. "Oh! Asking for advice, too. I've caught her asking his opinion on lockpick techniques several times."

"So? Nathaniel's a good lockpick."

"Sigrun's from Dust Town. I'd bet she learned to pick a lock when we were still focusing on not accidentally setting our beds on fire after a bad dream."

"You know you did stuff like that, the hair thing and so on," he pointed out.

"Wow, you don't say."

"So it's all some secret girl code. I prefer the hair-fixing pillow-fight idea. That had some real potential. It would do wonders for recruitment, too. We could get someone to draw it for posters. Or at least for my own personal use."

"I'm going to start ignoring you now," I muttered, munching on a cheese sandwich.

Anders sighed again, falling against the pillows. "Fine, fine. Crush my dreams."

I climbed out of bed, setting the tray on a side table and making a fire, before returning and crawling under the blankets. "I still can't believe we did it," I mused.

"What? Sullied the Revered Mother's bed?" He snickered at me.

"Maker, no," I hit Anders with my pillow. "Alistair had better throw us a _massive_ party for this. And I want the good musicians from Orlais, not those old fashioned minstrels he always has who can't play any decent dancing music."

"You must have been the only person who was upset when that dancing master retired from the tower. I don't even know _why _they kept him on so long after the occupation ended. Dancing mages, it all seems so… Orlesian."

"Well, it was. Still beats another class on why we're all destined to become world-destroying abominations. I think they kept him because he and Irving used to have tea together."

He set his plate on the nightstand and crawled under the blankets with me, putting out the candles. "So, Orzammar?"

"Let me figure out how bad things are here, and when Varel will be up and about. Once I know, I'll send a letter to King Behlin." Anders curled up next to me.

"I can't believe we're really going! I never made it that far in all the times I escaped."

"Well, it'll be work, too. We need recruits, so we may have to sit through some Provings, meet a bunch of fighters, that sort of thing."

"They'll let us see a Proving?"

"Anders, they might just hold one specifically for us if I ask. The dwarves hold the Wardens in great respect. We're the only surfacers who take darkspawn as seriously as they do." I yawned. "We may have to go to Denerim first, if the King requests us, but I promise, we will get to Orzammar. Might even stop to visit Jowan on the way, you can meet him."

"We've met, actually. We were in a couple classes together."

"You never told me that!" He knew Jowan had been my best friend for years, it seemed an odd thing to leave out.

"He's very shy, in case you've forgotten. I've spoken to him once, and it wasn't much of a conversation. It would be more accurate to say I know who he is than to say I know him." Anders had a point. Jowan didn't often talk to anyone but, well, me. I never could figure out how he'd managed to speak to Lily long enough to spark a relationship, much less maintain one.

"What did you talk about, then? I'm curious."

"It was nothing, forget I even mentioned it." Now I had to know.

"If you don't tell me I'll just ask him, and he'll remember. The man has a mind like a steel trap."

"You won't forget this, will you?"

"Nope. You're well past the time you could have lied and said 'oh, I asked him about a spell I missed when I escaped.'"

Anders cursed under his breath. I guess that would have been his next step. "All right, fine. Remember after the Joining when I said I recognized you but never knew your name?" I nodded. "Not entirely true." He blushed, and I reveled in it. After all the times he had gotten me all red faced, embarrassed and stammering I finally had a chance for revenge. "I knew your name since I asked him."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" I asked.

"I escaped a few days later, there was some huge mess in the tower and I took advantage of the chaos to sneak out. Looking back, I think it might have been the day you left to join the Wardens. I take it he never put in that good word for me, then?"

"I guess between the escape and the blood magic it must have slipped his mind. He had a lot going on at the time. Why wouldn't you tell me that?"

"What would I say? 'Hey, I know you barely remember me from the circle, but one time I nearly gave your terminally shy best friend a stroke pressuring him for information about you and making him swear he'd tell you I was a decent guy.' That would make me sound a bit… creepy, don't you think?"

"I don't 'barely remember' you," I protested. "I just didn't recognize you at first because of the hair. I was something of a mess for a bit, after that whole dropped-book winking thing."

"A mess? Why?"

"Because you never showed up after, that's why. I spent weeks wondering if you had just honestly dropped a book and thought I was a hideous idiot. I even told Jowan." I giggled, looking back. "He said you were trouble."

"_He_ said _I _was trouble? Maker's breath… There's a story there about a pot and kettle insulting each other."

"This is way before the blood magic thing. And you _were_ trouble. I didn't even know your name, I just told him I got stood up by 'that cute blond mage, the tall one who keeps managing to escape.' When their vague description includes a mention of frequent violations of Chantry law, it's usually a good sign that person is trouble."

"You know, I told you the truth. Had I known, I would have been there in a heartbeat. I kicked myself for ages when I found out." He gave one of his dramatic sighs before sliding a hand up my thigh. "I suppose I'll have to just try and make it up to you again."


	27. postscript

author note:

So I've decided to end this story here, with the plot of DA:O:A (Damn, that's a lot of colons for one title).

Maggie, Anders, and the Wardens will return in a new story, _Apostates of Amaranthine_, which will be up... um, soon. Maybe today, but early in the week if not. The first chapter is about halfway finished at this point, and a good chunk of the plot is outlined. (I'm in my last month of the semester, and taking fifteen credits of nothing but 400 level English classes means I'm writing something like thirty plus pages a week for class alone. Poor planning on my part? Oh yeah. And I'm doing it all again next semester before I can begin the fun that is grad school. Thankfully I type very, very fast. ;)

I absolutely cannot begin to thank all the people who marked this as a favorite story, added it to their alerts, and especially the reviewers. You all get gold stars and (metaphorical) cookies.

I hope everyone who enjoyed this will add me to their author alerts so they can follow the continuing adventures of the Wardens as they work on rebuilding the order while dealing with the darkspawn, Chantry, and templars (oh my!).


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